


Brave New World

by elaine



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Alternate Universe - Slavery, Alternate Universes, Angst, Jim Ellison is not a Sentinel, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-01-18
Updated: 2002-01-18
Packaged: 2017-12-11 07:29:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 24,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/795448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elaine/pseuds/elaine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a future world where Jim and Blair are slaves, can they be together, or even survive?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Brave New World

**Author's Note:**

> Anyone who's read much science fiction will recognise the themes in this story. However I was particularly influenced by C J Cherryh's Cyteen trilogy, which examines the issues of genetic engineering and slavery in much greater depth.
> 
> With apologies to Aldous Huxley for stealing his title. His dystopia is far more interesting than mine.

"Minder. Lights." The soft ambient glow of lighting set to his personal preference infiltrated the room as James of Elusis stepped through the doorway, and he felt a brief, unaccustomed sense of pleasure at a function he had long taken for granted. Today's training session had been intense, and James knew that it was only going to get worse; suddenly anything that made his life otherwise easier was something to be grateful for.

In spite of his best efforts, he had made not the slightest improvement in his performance today, or any day for the last month. Of course his personal best was still the best on the planet - until somebody else overtook him - and it was probably good enough. But probably just wasn't good enough, not when so much depended on the outcome of his next competition, now only two weeks away.

His room, though comfortable, was not large. By his third step James had stripped off his sweat soaked tunic and tossed it towards the efficiency area where he would later wash the day's grime away. It would be collected tomorrow, when he was again at training, by one of the nameless slaves who were responsible for such things. James rarely saw them, and never gave them a moment's thought between those times.

He turned away to face the full-length mirror opposite his bed, examining his body critically. It was a matter of course that he was tall, well-muscled and lean - he'd been designed that way by a team of experts. That his face was also strong featured and handsome hardly crossed his mind. It was as necessary to the people of Olympus as breathing that the inhabitants should, with few exceptions, be physically attractive. James regarded his body, now clad only in a brief leather thong, with a practised eye, searching for any hint of weakness or poor conformation, but finding none. The problem was not physical, and he knew it.

In a life that had known only the certainty of his superior athleticism, doubt and fear had begun to sprout, and James was at a loss to deal with it. He frowned at his reflection and tugged at the narrow tie on his left hip, releasing the thong, which fell to the floor with a soft whisper. The skin thus revealed was a perfectly defined V of pale flesh starting from a hairless groin and angling across a flat belly to end in a narrow strip high on either hip. When he competed he would, as tradition demanded, be naked, and there was no fault to be found with his regulation tan line, perfected by hours of training in the leather thong.

He fingered his foreskin distractedly, more aware now of its significance than he had ever been since puberty, when his abilities had been assessed and pronounced sufficient to remain in the athletics program. Of all the slaves birthed on this planet, only Athletes bore this sign of honour, making them, in physical appearance, at least, equal to their Masters. If he had failed those tests there would only have remained the humiliating and painful ritual circumcision, and life as a household servant to look forward to. Instead he had progressed to the highest levels of competition, his body permanently denuded of hair, again as tradition demanded, and become the darling of a planet.

In two weeks, if he was successful, he would be the first Athlete in over eighty years to achieve the distinction of winning access to the rejuvenation treatment the Masters had as a right of citizenship. With rejuv, he would be able to continue competing at this level for decades, rather than just a few more years - time enough to win the credits he would need to buy his freedom, and to live comfortably thereafter -  _if_  he won in two weeks. If he failed, it would take another two years of lower level competitions to win the number of points he needed. Two years in which he might injure himself, or even begin to fade prematurely. He was at his peak now.

It would be easier to deal with some sign of physical imperfection than this nebulous sense of malaise. James brushed negligent fingers over the smooth skin of his groin, noting distantly, how his cock stirred uneasily. He was tense, nervous almost to the point of nausea at times. Other Athletes complained of such things, but James had always been loftily immune to weaknesses both of the flesh and of the mind. He wasn't any longer.

It suddenly occurred to James that it had been weeks since he'd last distracted himself with a Companion. He'd put all that aside to concentrate on his training; perhaps he'd been concentrating too much. Although his body felt exhausted, something inside him stirred at the thought of an evening's distraction. As he walked into the ablution area, James voiced his request to the Minder. He'd have time to wash before the Companion arrived.

In fact, by the time James had finished his cleansing, the Companion had already arrived. He stared at the shorter, younger man in some surprise. Though undeniably attractive, he did not conform to the accepted standards of male beauty. For one thing he had far too much hair - pretty hair, which hung in tight curls past his shoulders. His blue eyes seemed a little lifeless and he smiled diffidently, almost as if he'd forgotten how to do it and was only now discovering the necessary muscles again.

James returned the smile perfunctorily, his body reacting fiercely now that the prospect of relief was so close. "Take off your tunic."

The Companion hesitated a fraction of a second, then pulled the tunic over his head and dropped it beside him. Naked, he seemed even less a likely candidate for a Companion's duties. His chest was liberally covered with dark whorls of hair, and his pubic hair was a thick tangle, instead of the usual, decorous clip. Still, James was in no mood to object and the thick swell of the slave's rosy cock was more than enough to compensate for any other perceived shortcomings. In fact, James found the whole package to be more than attractive enough for him.

As the Companion hesitated still, James crooked a finger. "Come here."

"Sir." His voice was low and soft. He took a step closer, within arm's reach, and James hooked a hand round the back of his neck and drew the smaller man up hard against him.

This close, the clear blue gaze was disconcerting. Rather than meet those eyes, James pulled the dark head down against his chest and after a moment soft, warm lips closed around his nipple and sucked gently. After so long without any sexual contact at all, even that small sensation sent a shudder through James' body. He pressed his fingers into the thick hair, guiding the movements of the Companion's head over his chest.

Neither made a sound apart from their breathing - there was nothing that needed to be said, after all. James took one of the hands that clutched at his back and relocated it to his erection. The young man took it obligingly in a firm grasp and began to stroke with an unhurried rhythm. James moaned softly, released the Companion's hand to its task and rested his hand lightly on the slim hip so close to his own. The soft caress of the Companion's cock rising against his thigh was the last straw. He put both hands on the slender shoulders and pressed the smaller man to his knees.

Again, there was a small pause. The dark head never lifted, and James brushed his fingertips over the soft curls, impatient but not yet willing to press the issue. Then the small strong hands clutched his thighs and his cock was enveloped in smooth, wet heat.

The Companion had learned his trade well, in spite of appearances to the contrary. His lips and tongue teased at the foreskin and then soothed with deep, powerful sucks. James rested his hands on the Companion's shoulders again, allowing his hips to move in an instinct too long neglected. The tight knot in his gut began to slowly unravel. James' head dropped back, his chest heaved with the effort of breathing as tendrils of pleasure snaked through his belly and thighs. His hips jerked suddenly, the only warning he was able to give, then he was coming, sliding deep into the welcoming throat, releasing the hot flow of his semen with a choked gasp.

After a moment, James released his too firm grip on the Companion's shoulders and stepped back. The other man simply stayed where he was, his head bowed, unmoving. There was something unnerving about his stillness, but before James could move, or speak, the door chime sounded.

It couldn't have come at a more inopportune time, and James was tempted to ignore the interruption - except that, on occasion, Master Anders would politely use the chime to announce his visitations, and the possibility of offending his Master was inconceivable to James.

"Who is it?" He moved to the chest where his spare tunics were stored, just in case.

A sultry purr announced, more clearly than the words themselves, that his Companion for the night had arrived. Jim turned to the young man kneeling on the floor with a sick sensation replacing the warm glow in his gut. "Thank you. I've changed my mind."

He ignored the put upon sigh that was all that the Companion - the  _real_  Companion - dared use to indicate his displeasure, and hurried over to the other man. He was shaking, and James realised as he bent over him, still hard. A properly trained Companion would never have neglected his own need for physical relief. Only the lowest and least intelligent of slaves required such basic instruction, yet the young man showed no other sign of low intelligence.

"Are you all right?" James thought he saw a tiny shake of the dark head, but then he didn't really need an answer. He hoisted the young man to his feet and then had to half carry, half drag him to the bed.

Still the other made no effort towards his own relief. He must, after all, be one of the lower servants, bred only to do what he was bid and with only limited ability to think for himself. James sat on the edge of the bed and lifted one tightly clenched fist and laid it over the twitching erection. "Touch yourself. It's all right to do this."

A quiet shuddering sob ran through the sturdy body and the hand moved - fingers awkwardly unclenching and wrapping around the swollen shaft, stroking jerkily. His breath came hard and fast, and muscles twitched and rippled under the hair-scattered skin of his belly. As James watched, uneasily aware of the other man's extremity, a wordless cry was torn from the tense throat and a jet of pearly semen spattered across the heaving chest to land glittering among sweat dampened hair.

Occasional tremors still shook the sturdy body and the dark head was turned away. James waited as patiently as he could manage for the young man's breathing to return to normal, one hand resting lightly on a shoulder still marked by his earlier grip. Finally the slave's breathing slowed and his head turned. James tried to smile reassuringly. "Have the Masters given you a name?"

"No." Blue eyes fringed with damp lashes stared up into James' face. He made no objection when James lifted his left arm and turned it to reveal the tiny tattoo on the inside of his wrist.

"BLR-932. What's your function?" A tiny wrinkle of confusion appeared between the young man's eyebrows and James sighed. "What do you do? Why were you in my room?"

"Oh." The slave smiled tentatively. "The laundry overseer sent me."

"At  _this_  hour?" James moderated the tone of his voice as the other flinched. He smiled reassuringly. "It's all right. The mistake was not yours. You are not at fault."

"Maybe." A flash of agitation passed quickly across the mobile face. "Sometimes I forget things. I think I've been sick, but..."

"You  _think_  you've been sick?" Surely he ought to remember that... but the young slave looked troubled and James didn't want to make things worse again. He swallowed awkwardly and brushed one of the long curls away from the younger man's face. "I'm sorry about... earlier. I should not have assumed that you... that you were..."

"You took nothing from me that I would not have given." A smile trembled into life on the full lips. "Do not be sorry."

James found himself smiling in return. This young slave was a conundrum - one moment seeming to be incapable of thinking for himself, the next offering comfort and absolution as though he was one of the Masters. He leaned down and kissed the soft lips gently. "I'm still sorry for the way I treated you." His thumb rubbed across the slave's lower lip. "Do you have any other duties tonight?"

Blue eyes widened; clearly he understood the implicit invitation. "No. I had only the one task."

"Good." Jim kissed him again. "Would you like to stay?"

"Yes." He lay still, passively accepting James' caresses and kisses until James drew back. "But the overseer..."

James sat up. "Minder, convey my greetings to the laundry overseer and advise him that BLR-932 has been assigned other duties for the remainder of the evening. I will not require anything further tonight."<br> .<br>  
A soft sexless voice acknowledged the command and the lights dimmed a little. James chuckled. Sometimes it almost seemed like the Minder was sentient. He sank down beside his bedmate with tingle of anticipation growing in his belly. He was going to enjoy making up for his previous churlish behaviour.

* * *

Every morning at 0500 the brightening light in his room would wake James to another day of training.  _This_  morning, however, he woke to a sense of contentment that had been missing in his life for so long that he'd forgotten it existed. The weight of his bed partner's body in his arms, and the soft tickle of hair against his skin, reminded him of exactly why he felt so relaxed.

He slid out from under the limp body, grinning at the way the young man slumped to the mattress with no sign of waking.  _He_  rarely slept so soundly. With a resounding yawn and a thorough stretch, James threw off his unaccustomed lassitude and made his way to the ablution area. This morning his sense of wellbeing demanded the pleasure of a shower, rather than the more efficient sonic cleansing. James rotated slowly under the fine, hot spray, and when he heard a loud yawn from the direction of his bed, called out to the younger slave to join him.

It was a considerable temptation to allow the other's wandering hands to distract him from his own duties, but James resisted, capturing those hands and holding them away from his body. "I can't. Coach would have me flayed if I turned up to training already worn out."

"He  _beats_  you?" Instantly, James was released as eyes wide with horror met his own.

Physical punishment and abuse was rare, but not unknown and James grinned reassuringly. "Only with his tongue. But sometimes that's enough."

"Oh." A fleeting smile replaced the shocked expression.

"And he'd be right. I can't afford to let up on my training now." James stepped out from under the shower. "Take as long as you like. I have to go."

"Yes sir."

James turned to see a look of disappointment cross the previously animated face. Cursing himself for a sentimental fool, he hesitated. "Could you do something for me? I'll need spring water and some fruit in about an hour. Can you bring them to the training grounds?"

"I can do that after I've taken your laundry to the overseer." The slave's eyes lit up. "He won't question it if  _you_  order it."

"Good." James pulled a tunic over his head and snatched a thong from his clothing chest. "If there's any problem just tell him to check with me."

* * *

By the time his breakfast arrived, James had completed his stretches and warm-up routine and started on his exercises. He took a few minutes to drink the water and eat some pieces of fruit. He was just about to send the young slave away when his coach arrived.

Simon had coached James since he was a teenager, and knew him better than anyone. He stood with his hands on his hips and stared at the two of them for a long moment. "So, what's this?"

"A... friend. He brought me some fruit." James wasn't fooled by the gruff manner. Simon had a heart of gold and was fiercely protective of his 'boys'. "He won't cause any trouble."

"He'd better not." The dark eyes moved from James to his companion. "And you are?"

Eyes lowered, the younger man barely managed a whisper. "BLR-932, sir."

Before James could intervene Simon patted the slave on his arm. "Well, if you're going to hang around here, boy, you can make yourself useful. How are you at massage? Can you read?"

"I... I can read." He looked up at James nervously before facing Simon again. "I don't know much about massage."

"You'll learn." Simon grinned suggestively. "I'm sure Jimmy won't mind you practising on him. I'll have you assigned to him."

What Simon wanted, Simon usually got, so it came as no surprise to James that the transfer had gone through by the time he finished his morning run. There were certain advantages to being the most successful athletics coach on the planet, with a team of Athletes who could be counted on to finish in the top five in any competition.

Today was, luckily, scheduled to be a light day. James worked his way through all five of the disciplines of the pentathlon - running, javelin, discus, long jump and wrestling - at an easy pace, then warmed down for a while and allowed his new 'assistant' to practice his massage skills. Finally, he sank into a hot tub to let his muscles soak for a while.

He'd barely begun to relax into the heat when the young slave came in with a small pile of towels. James invited him over with a jerk of the head. "Get in."

A shy smile tilted the full lips. "I'd better not. Coach said..."

"And I say get in." James watched in amusement as he shed his tunic and slid into the sunken tub. He slid an arm around the slave's shoulders, drawing him closer. Blue eyes met his, wide and adoring, as he closed the distance between them.

There was something wonderfully reassuring in knowing that nothing seriously sexual was going to happen here, in a public room. Soft lips tasting sweetly of fruit parted with pliant eagerness to admit James' inquisitive tongue. His eyes drifted shut and James was aware only of the taste, and the warm wet feel of lips and tongue against his own. Their lips parted briefly and a sigh gusted gently across his cheek. James' eyes opened reluctantly and he thumbed the lightly stubbled cheek in a tender caress.

All thought of Simon's disapproval had obviously fled. The other man sidled a fraction closer, sinking against James' chest without hesitation, and tilting his face up for another kiss. James smiled and thrust his fingers deep into the riotous curls, willingly losing himself in the soft press and suck of warm lips.

Perhaps fortunately, they were interrupted a few moments later by the arrival of five of James' team-mates, boisterously anticipating their chance to soak in the hot tub. James released him with a resigned shrug and ignored their lewd comments. Shortly after that he eased himself out of the hot water and headed for his private cubicle, closely followed by his human shadow.

It wasn't far to his quarters, just a few minutes walk. Halfway there, James realised he hadn't spoken a word since leaving the hot tub. He glanced curiously at the man beside him, wondering if the behaviour of the other men had upset him. Their joking comments hadn't been unkind, but afterwards they'd simply ignored him, not knowing, perhaps, how to include someone who was so obviously not one of them. They weren't identical, Athletes never were - the theory being that no Athlete could compete to the best of his ability against an exact replica of himself - but all of them, James included, had the same body type, the same lack of body hair, and similar, chiselled features.

It reminded James of something he'd meant to say earlier. "Listen. If anyone gives you any trouble you just tell me, all right?"

"Nobody has." The open face was relaxed, unconcerned.

"Well, I'm not saying they will." Most of his team-mates would be no problem at all James knew, but a few were spiteful and might make life difficult if they could. "I'm just saying you should tell me, or Simon, if anybody gives you grief."

At that the smooth brow wrinkled slightly. "Coach?"

James grinned. "Believe me, he puts on a good show, but he's about as dangerous as a cream pie. He won't let anything happen to you. Do you understand? I want you to tell me."

It was strange to feel such protectiveness towards another. Doubly so, when he considered that they'd known each other less than a day. Still there was something about the young slave, a mixture of vulnerability and resilience, of naivete and intelligence, that roused instincts that James had never imagined existed within him. Like now when, having spoken with more emphasis that was strictly necessary, he saw the other withdraw into himself a little more.

"Yes, sir. I will." The dark head bowed slightly and didn't come up again.

James stopped in his tracks and took hold of the younger man's arm. "You don't need to do that. We're both slaves, after all. You  _can_  use my name."

The smaller man looked up, a shy mischievous twinkle lurking in the blue eyes. "Should I call you James or Jimmy?"

"Not Jimmy. Please." He grinned, relieved at the sudden lightening of mood.

"Jim?" The dark head tilted consideringly. "Would you mind if I called you Jim?"

"No, I wouldn't mind." James started walking again. "I wish  _you_..." but that was perhaps best not said.

They continued in silence, albeit a more relaxed one, for several paces before the other man spoke. "Jim, I have a name. It's Blair. I'd like you to call me by it."

"But you said..." James realised he'd stopped walking again.

"You asked if the Masters had named me, and they haven't." Blair smiled at him artlessly. "I gave it to myself."

"Blair..." James had to force himself to remain calm. It was against every notion of propriety for a slave to assert himself in such a way. So much so that he wasn't even sure it was a crime. Nobody passes a law against the unthinkable. And yet it felt so natural to say the name aloud. "You can't give yourself a name."

"But I did." Blair seemed completely unconcerned. "We all do it, Jim. The others just don't talk about it."

"You'd better not, either. Not where anyone can hear you." His heart was pounding suddenly. If something were to happen to Blair because of his rashness... the decision which had been lurking in the back of his mind suddenly seemed imperative. "Where do you sleep? A dormitory?" He waited for Blair's assent. "There's room enough for you in my quarters, if you'd like..."

Blair's eyes lit up. "Really? Jim, I'd love to."

"It makes sense, if you're going to be my assistant." Jim felt himself withdrawing a little, shaken by the pleasure he felt in Blair's eagerness to be with him. "And it's not as if I spend a lot of time there."

"Of course." Blair's voice was immediately subdued, and James regretted his snub. "I can look after your things too... laundry and such."

"You don't have to..." James pressed his lips firmly together to stop himself before he hurt Blair again. "That's not why I asked. I  _want_  you to stay with me. If you still want to?"

A smile was all the answer he needed.

* * *

"This morning you'll swim against Rex and Uli." Simon looked up from his datapad to glare at James. "In the afternoon I want you to lift weights and run. William, Karl and Choi will race you. Any questions?"

The men he'd been paired with were all at the top of their individual fields. No pentathlete, with five sports to master, could hope to match them. But there was only one answer James could give. "None. I'll start my warm up."

It became a gruelling day. Sure enough, Uli and Rex thrashed him soundly. Swimming was not even one of his disciplines, just a form of exercise, and only his innate competitiveness kept him close behind the two of them. James dragged himself out of the pool after his last lap and walked on rubbery legs to the massage room where Blair was waiting for him with hot towels, oil and hot, honey-laced tea.

The weights session was almost a relief, a familiar routine that he didn't push too hard, knowing that he was likely to face the same tough competition on the race track as he had in the pool. Karl, a sprinter, was the fastest man on Olympus; nobody had seriously challenged him for over two years, and James was not even close to his speed over a short distance. William and Choi were long distance runners, and obviously under instructions to show him no mercy.

Between races he kept moving, not allowing his muscles to stiffen, though he knew he'd be sore tomorrow. They finished with a slightly more leisurely jog and then James walked slowly towards the low building that housed the physical therapy and dressing rooms, a towel slung over his bare shoulders.

"Jimmy! Get over here."

He looked over at Simon's glowering face and wondered what the sadistic bastard had in store for him now. There was no point in arguing, however, and James headed over to his coach with a matching scowl developing on his face. "What? I thought I did okay, considering."

"Okay?" Simon shrugged dismissively. "I suppose some people might think that. After all you only shaved four point five seconds off your personal best in the ten thousand metres."

At first the meaning of the words didn't sink in. Then Simon's face splitting grin gave the show away. James felt an answering smile stretching the muscles on his face. "Four point five?"

"Uh huh. About time too." Simon thumped him on the back. "You'd better keep it up. Tomorrow we'll work on javelin, long jump and discus, and I want to see the same kind of improvements there."

"Sure. No problem." James walked away, limping slightly for effect. As soon as he got through the doorway he resumed his normal gait.

Blair met him by the massage room grinning. "Did Coach tell you? He was  _so_  pleased, Jim."

"Could have fooled me." Jim swept him into a full body hug as the implications of his performance sank in. This was the first real improvement he'd shown in weeks. The first time he'd felt confident of winning his next competition in months. A surge of exhilaration banished his weariness,

"Would you like another massage?"

"I've got a better idea." James kept one arm around Blair's waist as he pulled the other man in the direction of his cubicle.

As soon as the door closed behind them, James pulled Blair back into his arms, kissing him hungrily. His body felt almost weightless, tingling with energy and desire. They backed up until James was leaning against the massage table with Blair conveniently placed between his thighs.

Blair's hyperactive hands sent shivers through his body. His fingers tweaked already erect nipples and smoothed down over skin slick with sweat and what remained of the oil from his earlier massage. "Jim... oh, you feel good."

"So do you. Oh god, yes... there..." James captured his mouth again, kissing Blair until they were both breathless. His right hand slid under Blair's tunic and cupped his ass, kneading the firm muscle while his left hand stroked the back of Blair's neck. "Touch me."

Blair hardly needed any encouragement from him. He smiled up into James' face as his hand slid down rippled muscles and came to rest over the soft scrap of leather that was all James wore. He rubbed gently, almost teasingly, and James felt his hips push eagerly into the touch. He groaned, almost ready to beg.

"Mmn... is this what you want?" Blair's smile became dreamy. He pushed aside the thong, fingers cradling James' cock as he drew it free. "Is it Jim?"

"You know it is." James leaned back, fighting for control as Blair stroked his cock lazily. "More... please, more..."

"Shh. I'll give you more. I'll give you everything you need." Blair's whisper soothed him. "Trust me, Jim."

"Yes." James turned his head, seeking that luscious mouth. "Kiss me again."

The touch of Blair's fingers against his cock sent shivers of pleasure through him, yet even that couldn't compete with the sheer intensity of the way Blair was kissing him - sweet but possessive, taking and yet giving of himself with nothing held back. No lover James had ever known had kissed him with such intimacy. His hands tightened on Blair's body, pulling him closer as though that could somehow overcome the barriers of flesh and blood and bone to make them one.

So intent was he on Blair that the sound of a throat being cleared sent a jolt through his body. James' eyes flew open and he jerked his head away. It took a moment for his shocked senses to recognise Master Anders standing in the doorway, looking amused. James dropped to the floor, assuming the traditional posture for a slave - one knee to the floor, sitting back on his heel with the other knee bent up against his chest, his hands resting on it, and his head bowed. Beside him, Blair had assumed the same position.

They waited in silence for whatever their Master would order, James miserably aware that his cock was still hanging loose and, thankfully, rapidly wilting.

"James, I would like to speak with you alone." Master Anders' voice was calm, self-contained.

Blair rose hurriedly and left the room as James also clambered, less than gracefully, to his feet. He muttered an indistinct apology and adjusted the thong to cover himself decently.

A negligent wave of the hand indicated Anders' unconcern with James' state of dress. "I take it that is the young man who has been assisting you lately?"

"Yes sir." James lifted his eyes fleetingly, still feeling at a huge disadvantage after being caught in flagrante.

"Simon just gave me the good news about your performance in the ten thousand metres." Anders smiled warmly and James relaxed a little. "I'm very pleased to hear it. He seems to think that BLR-932 has helped with your improvement."

James smiled tentatively. "I think so too, sir. He... he motivates me, helps me relax..."

The smile had widened into a grin. "I'm sure he does. However..." the grin became a frown, "I want to warn you to be careful, James. I agreed to take responsibility for BLR-932 because it was felt a quieter environment might benefit him. It would be unfortunate if, due to your interaction with him, he were to be negatively affected. His gene-set is highly intelligent, but flawed. He needs careful handling."

"He likes me, sir, and I would never do anything to harm him." He could feel his heart starting to pound. Of all the subjects he might have expected Master Anders to bring up, Blair had to have been the most unlikely. "He seems to be all right."

"I hope it stays that way, James." Anders considered him for a long moment, then sighed. "I'll allow the association to continue, for the time being. Be careful."

"I will, sir." James waited, trying to hide his concern, for his Master to leave. He badly wanted to talk to Blair somewhere where they couldn't easily be overheard. But the other man was obviously in no hurry to go.

"You're looking well, and Simon is very confident about your next competition. It will be a great day for the whole household when you win." Anders stepped forward and put a gentle hand on James' shoulder. "It will be the first step towards gaining your citizenship, and once that is achieved everything that Olympus has to offer will be yours for the taking. I'm very proud of you James."

"Thank you, sir." James smiled with real pleasure. Anders had always treated him well, and now seemed genuinely pleased at the prospect of losing one of his most valuable slaves.

The hand on his shoulder slipped down over James' chest, coming to rest in his hip. "I wonder how you will think of me, when you are a citizen. Could we be friends, do you think?"

"I... I've never thought so far ahead." James blinked, genuinely surprised by the question. He'd dreamt of winning his freedom for years, but could honestly say he'd never really thought about what it would be like to actually  _be_  free. "I... you have always been kind to me, sir."

"We've had some good times together." The hand on James' hip moved caressingly. "At least, I hope they were good for you too."

"Yes sir." James managed to get the words out in a normal tone. He'd never had a problem with this in the past, but now... he didn't want what his Master so obviously desired, yet there was no question of refusal. Whatever the future might bring, he was still a slave now.

"Mmn." A quick tug at the leather tie released James' thong. Anders smiled. "Turn around James."

He turned obediently, and leaned forward a little, his hands gripping the edge of the massage table, supporting some of his weight on his arms.

"You're very beautiful, James. I'm constantly fielding requests for your services, both in and out of the arena." Light strokes against his buttocks sent a shiver through James, though his cock stirred only slightly. Anders chuckled softly. "Companions are all very useful, I'm sure, but not truly satisfying. Athletes, on the other hand, are beautiful, skilled and so much more masculine, don't you think?"

"I suppose so." James gasped as Anders' cock slid inside him. His mind felt strangely disassociated from his body and he simply wanted to be done with the act. "Though you'd be surprised at how bitchy some Athletes can be."

A soft laugh sent a gust of breath against the back of his neck. Anders' hands on his hips held him steady as the Master began to thrust vigorously. "Now  _that's_  a perfect example of what I mean... oh, that's good... no Companion would ever hold such an opinion. They're far too self absorbed to care what anyone else does."

James closed his eyes, concentrating on the feel of Anders' cock inside him. If he could just climax he knew he could carry Anders with him, and then it would be over. But his body stubbornly refused to co-operate. He took a couple of deep, gulping breaths and clenched his buttocks rhythmically, trying to simulate the contractions of orgasm. It was crude, but effective. Anders groaned and thrust more wildly, his hands tightening on James' hips.

He shivered as his Master climaxed. It covered well enough for the fact that he had not been even close to becoming aroused. After a moment the other man withdrew from him, placing a light kiss on the back of James' shoulder.

"Thank you, James. That was delightful." Anders brushed his fingers against James' cheek as he turned. "Don't forget my warning."

"I won't sir." He waited until Anders was gone, then stooped to retrieve his thong and toss it into the laundry basket. His tunic was folded neatly on a stool, Blair's doing no doubt. He ought to put it on, but his limbs felt heavy and slightly numb.

"Jim?" Blair's voice drew James out of his reverie and he looked up. Immediately, Blair came to him, sliding an arm around his waist. "Did he hurt you?"

James shook his head. "Of course not. He's not a cruel man, he would never hurt me."

"Are you all right?" There was a heart-warming look of concern on Blair's face. "Jim?"

"I'm fine." He pulled away long enough to drag his tunic on and took hold of Blair's arm. "Let's go home."

He'd intended to warn Blair - without telling him exactly what had happened - on the walk back to his quarters, but the words simply wouldn't come to him. Almost before he knew it, the door was opening and Blair was ushering him inside. He entered, obedient to the pressure of a firm hand in the small of his back and then stood, hesitating as Blair moved past him.

"Are you hungry, Jim?"

"No. I don't know." James shook his head, irritated at himself. "Yes, I suppose so."

Blair stepped up to him and took James' face between his hands. "He shouldn't have... it wasn't right..."

James stopped him hurriedly with a kiss. "It was nothing. I'm fine."

That earned him a sceptical stare, then Blair's lips tilted up mischievously at the corners. "He interrupted us. I think we should finish what we started."

Before James could think of a response to this abrupt change of mood, Blair stepped away from him, lifting the hem of his tunic and peeling it off over his head. He tossed the tunic casually in the direction of the laundry basket, missing it by almost a metre. Blithely ignoring his poor aim, he turned away, dropping to one knee, mimicking the position they'd both assumed before Master Anders - except that Blair was leaning forward, balancing on his hands, his ass lifted in blatant sexual invitation.

Suddenly, Master Anders' warning didn't seem so odd; it was difficult to imagine any slave would dare to mock a formality deeply ingrained from his earliest years. James stared down at Blair in a state of confusion equally composed of lust and dismay.

"Well? Don't you want me?" A blue eye appeared over Blair's left shoulder, surrounded by a tangle of sable curls.

"Yes, I..." James dragged in a shaken breath and then, guided more by instinct than reason, went to the medicine cabinet which contained a small vial of olive oil. On the way back he rid himself of his tunic, not even bothering to aim for the laundry basket as he passed it. "Are you sure?"

"You won't hurt me." Blair smiled shakily over his shoulder as James knelt behind him. "I want you, Jim."

"All right." James touched his lips to the downy skin at the base of Blair's spine. He felt the shiver that ran through the younger man's body as his oily fingers stroked gently between Blair's buttocks. He didn't linger, only assuring himself that Blair was indeed relaxed and able to take his penetration, then he positioned himself carefully and pressed inside.

"Ohhh... oh god, Jim..." Blair shuddered and moaned softly under his breath. "That's so... oh,  _yes_..."

"Shh." James bent over the pale back, reaching around to capture Blair's cock with his oily fist. He stroked it gently in time with his thrusts, wanting to give Blair as much pleasure as he was himself feeling. He kissed Blair's shoulders, brushed his fingers over taut nipples and felt the tightening of Blair's body around his cock. "You feel so wonderful."

Blair moved with him, pushing back with a smooth, easy rhythm as James thrust into him, until the touch on his cock became too much for him to bear. His sturdy body began to jerk spasmodically, trying to go in two directions at once, and James had no reserves of control to draw on. His thrusts deepened, and his fingers tightened, fiercely pumping the hard flesh until Blair's breath caught in a low groan.

Hot spurts of semen coated his fingers, and Blair's body clutched urgently at James' cock, stripping him of all coherent thought. Still, his instincts remained true - as the adrenalin rush receded, he managed to ease them both to the floor, still joined together and gasping for breath.

* * *

It hadn't been as difficult as James expected to adjust to having another person sleep with him. Usually he'd availed himself of a Companion's services, or just casually fucked around with other Athletes, none of whom had expected to stay the night. But it was actually a pleasure to wake up wrapped around Blair's sturdy body, his morning erection nestled comfortably against Blair's butt, his face buried in a tangle of curls and his fingers brushing lightly over soft wiry chest hair.

This particular morning, however, they'd overslept. They rushed through their morning ablutions and hurried out the door, but halfway to the athletics complex, James remembered the warning he'd meant to give Blair the night before. After the stunt Blair had pulled last night, he felt far more inclined to take heed of Master Anders's warning. He pulled up suddenly, grabbing Blair's arm to stop him.

He pulled Blair close and lowered his head so that their lips were almost touching. "You need to be careful, Blair. Don't say anything that might be misinterpreted. Do you understand? Anything that might seem... critical of the Masters."

Blair blinked up at him in surprise. "I won't Jim. You don't have anything to worry about." He smiled and patted Jim's cheek. "We're going to be late. Simon won't be happy about it."

"Simon's gonna kill me." James brushed his lips hastily against Blair's. "I mean it, though. Be careful."

"Sure." Blair smiled at him sunnily. "Now come  _on_."

Whether it was punishment for their tardiness, or simply Simon's natural sadistic tendencies, James wasn't sure, but that day and the one following were taken up by a punishing schedule of exercise and competition. He had to pit his skills against some of the highest rated Athletes of Olympus, all at the top of their fields. At the end of the second day he'd improved on his personal best in every one of the five events, and even managed to win the best of three falls against Master Anders' best wrestler - more by sheer determination than superior skill, but it was still a winning match.

James practically fell onto the massage table after the bout, too exhausted to feel even a hint of arousal as Blair carefully kneaded his aching muscles. Blair, too, was unusually quiet. He'd spent the last two days running errands, bringing James food and drink between training sessions and encouraging him as best he could. Now he simply brushed a soft kiss against James' temple and got on with the massage.

There was something about those small, strong hands that sent James into a state of near bliss. He'd had more skilled masseurs, but none of them could relax him the way Blair did with just the simplest of touches. He was drifting, half asleep when Simon's voice, suddenly booming over his head, jerked him back to harsh reality.

"You've done great, Jimmy. You're gonna wipe the floor with the competition." For once Simon's nasal voice held not a trace of irritation.

James turned his head on his crossed arms and glared up at his friend and mentor. "So what do you want now, you sadistic bastard?"

Simon grinned hugely. "The next few days I want you to just do light exercise and concentrate on technique and strategy, especially in the ten thousand metres. You could have won that last race, if you hadn't let Choi and Aaron out manoeuvre you. I want you to swim too - a hundred laps each day. I've scheduled a few more bouts with Martin, so you can pick up some tips from him. I've made it clear to everyone that you're the prime focus for this competition; they all want to see you succeed, Jimmy. It gives them hope for themselves."

James simply grunted, not so sure that everyone would feel that way, but too tired to argue. It turned into a groan of pleasure as Blair got to work on his tense shoulder muscles.

"Kid, put more pressure on that trapezius. He's a professional, for crying out loud. You're not gonna break him." Simon patted James on his bare butt and headed for the door. He stopped there for a moment. "Oh yeah... take tomorrow off, Jimmy. You deserve it."

"Thanks." James muttered the word ungratefully, but couldn't keep a smile from breaking out on his face. It was short-lived, as Blair found a particularly tender spot on his shoulder and he yelped.

"Sorry Jim." Blair bent over to kiss the place lightly, then set about soothing the tightness there.

* * *

James drifted slowly into wakefulness, unsure of what had woken him. Everything seemed normal. He was in bed, lying on his back, and Blair was curled up against his side with his head resting heavily on James' shoulder. It was dark.

They'd returned to his quarters after Blair had finished his massage and James could remember falling onto the bed and dropping into an exhausted sleep. Blair had woken him some time later and insisted that he take a shower. Afterwards he'd returned to bed with Blair, who had hand fed him some cold meat and salad and fruit.

He smiled suddenly. Blair had started giving him another massage, one that was clearly intended to lead to more interesting things; but James had fallen asleep again. And now he was wide-awake and it was probably some ungodly hour of the morning, and Blair was fast asleep.

Should he wake Blair, or let him sleep? James considered the question, but was spared a decision when Blair stirred drowsily in his arms.

"Jim? You awake?" Blair's voice was husky with weariness. In some ways the last two days had been almost as hard on him as they had been on James. "Is something wrong?"

"No. I just woke up." James kissed the upturned face lightly. "Go back to sleep."

Blair settled again, but not to sleep. They lay in silence for a while, then Blair's natural ebullience overcame his sleepiness. "Hey Jim? Did you know that almost eighty percent of slaves are male?"

"I hadn't noticed that." James' voice was dry, "but thanks for telling me."

He got a playful poke in the ribs for that. "And of that eighty percent, over  _ninety_  percent of them are only attracted to other men. Did you know that?"

James kissed the top of his head. "No, but I can only say that I'm very grateful that you're one of them."

"Really?" Blair wriggled closer. "I'm glad you are too, Jim. But it's strange..."

"Yeah?"

"Well, in the citizen population, the rate of homosexuality is only five percent amongst males and three percent amongst females. And since  _we're_  all genetically engineered, and citizens have only minor modifications, to weed out physical and mental problems..." Blair pushed himself onto one elbow, though it was far too dark for him to be able to see James. "It must mean that the incidence in the citizen population is normal for humans... so, why would they do that? What's the point?"

"Does it matter?" Alarms were going off inside James' head suddenly. He didn't know that his rooms were under surveillance, but he wasn't about to take the chance they weren't. "Go back to sleep."

Blair wasn't going to be so easily distracted, however. "But Jim... hey, maybe they just don't want us to breed. That would make sense."

"No it wouldn't." James was so intent on stopping the one-sided discussion that he didn't think. "That's why we're all sterilised, you idiot."

There was a stunned silence. "Sterilised?  _I'm_  not sterilised."

"We all are. All of us. Just drop it will you?" He grasped Blair's arm, intent on silencing him before this got out of hand.

"Jim, I think I'd remember if I'd been sterilised." Blair's voice was a mixture of amusement and mild offence. He allowed James to pull him down at last. "Really. It's not the kind of thing you'd forget."

"You're telling me. The older boys were telling us stories for weeks beforehand about how sometimes it went wrong and they had to cut everything off." Jim kissed Blair firmly. "I had nightmares for ages."

"But Jim..."

He silenced Blair with a long, long kiss. By the time it ended Blair was lying limply across his chest and completely distracted. James rolled him onto his back and set about consolidating his position with a series of slow, deep kisses that left them both breathless and squirming with awakening arousal. All traces of sleepiness had long fled and Blair arched up beneath him, rubbing his thigh against James' erection.

All James could see was a quick flash of white teeth in the darkness. "Minder. Lights at fifty percent normal."

The lights came up gradually and as Blair's face faded slowly into view, James couldn't help smiling. His lover was flushed and tousled, his full lips were swollen with kisses - the epitome of sensuousness and desirability. James brushed his fingers through the soft patch of hair over Blair's sternum and lightly thumbed his nipple.

As Blair moaned and arched up into his touch, James drew his hand down the line of hair to Blair's navel, and then lower. Sticky wetness pooled on his belly, and James rubbed his fingertips through it, then rubbed the slippery stuff over Blair's nipples. Blair's eyes widened and his breath caught in a gasp as James licked and sucked his nipples until not the faintest taste remained.

"Oh god Jim... I lo..."

James hurriedly silenced him again with a kiss. Close attachments among slaves were firmly discouraged and, fuelled by an unaccustomed paranoia, James was prepared to believe that someone, somewhere, was listening to their every word. He bent his head over Blair's face until their lips were almost touching. "Don't say anything. Not a word. Promise?"

Blair nodded, eyes wide, lips pressed firmly together. The corners of his mouth quivered, then curled upwards into a smile.

"That's better." James kissed first one corner of that inviting mouth, then the other. "I want you. I want to be inside you."

The full lips parted, and then closed again. Blair nodded, his eyes dancing.

"Good." James grinned. He eased the lower half of his body over Blair's so their cocks brushed together and a muffled groan escaped his lover. "You _could_ put that mouth to better uses than talking."

A quick grin told James that Blair had got the message. Sticky fingers rubbed his left nipple briefly and then Blair's mouth attached itself like a limpet. Loose strands of hair tickled his shoulder and it was impossible to resist the temptation to bury his fingers into thick curls that felt like silk. James rubbed a handful of it against his chest and sighed happily. "Your hair's so beautiful. Don't ever cut it."

Blair gurgled indignantly against his nipple, sending vibrations through James' chest and groin that reminded him of just how aroused he was becoming. He rocked his hips slowly against Blair's and the younger man responded with more groans and an eager thrust. Both their bellies were wet and slippery with pre-ejaculate, but James could still feel the texture of coarse moisture-matted hairs against his cock. It felt so good that James was tempted to forget his original intentions - until Blair's legs lifted, wrapping themselves around James' hips, and Blair surged up against him demandingly.

His cock slipped down and was trapped behind Blair's balls, so that on the next thrust James came close to penetrating his lover, whether he intended to or not. It reminded him that he could hurt Blair if he didn't take more care, even though carefulness was the last thing he wanted to think about right now. He reached down and took a firm grasp of his cock, forcing himself to remain still, to think about what he was doing.

"Please. Jim,  _please_..."

"Shh..." He kissed Blair distractedly as he pressed his cock firmly against Blair's anus. Beneath him Blair shuddered, then lay perfectly still. It was only the second time they'd done this, yet Blair felt so open, so ready for him. At the last moment James drew back the loose skin, retracting his foreskin completely. He wanted to feel everything it was possible to feel while he was inside Blair.

Their bodies joined together easily, as though they'd always been intended for each other. Blair's legs tightened around James' hips, pulling him further into the heat of his body until he could go no deeper. They clung to each other, shivering with the intensity of the sensations then, slowly, James withdrew almost completely before thrusting in again in a smooth, sensuous glide.

It felt so good, he wanted it to last forever - his cock moving through the tight ring of muscle, the helpless little shudder of Blair's body as James touched his prostate at the height of each thrust. This time was so different from the last, not least because James could see every flicker of reaction in Blair's expressive face. He could easily have lost himself in those wide blue eyes.

The gentle twitches of Blair's cock against his belly grew stronger and more insistent until they became a wild tattoo, echoing the pounding of Blair's heart against his. He had never felt this connection before, so solid it seemed more real -  _he_  seemed more real - than anything he'd ever experienced. Borne on a wave of exhilaration, lust and sheer terror, James felt himself tipping over the edge and surrendered his hold on consciousness with a sense of relief.

* * *

"Man, I just can't believe you." Blair shook his head grinning.

A whole day stretched ahead of them, with nothing to fill it that they did not want to do, and the thought of it was driving James crazy. He shrugged a trifle defensively. "I just want to work out a little."

"You've got the day off, Jim." Blair spread his arms wide. "Enjoy it."

"I will.  _After_  I've done my work out. It's just an hour." He could hear the beginnings of a whine in his voice and took a deep breath. "Look, it's just... I always work out. I've never missed a day and now isn't a good time to start."

Blair sighed. "An hour. That's it, then I'm coming for you."

Whatever had happened to that nervous, unassertive slave who had wandered into his life by sheerest chance? Accepting defeat, Jim sighed too. "I promise. One hour."

"All right." Blair beamed. "Simon told me about these hot springs on the estate. You know them?"

James nodded cautiously. "I've been there a few times."

"Great. I'll arrange the groundcar and a picnic lunch, and I'll pick you up in an hour." Blair fixed him with a stern glare. "And I'll tell Simon to make sure you're waiting for me."

In fact, at the end of the hour, James was more than ready to be whisked away by his lover. The last few days had taken as much out of him as a competition, but without the associated adrenalin rush to keep him going. So he was waiting obediently when Blair pulled up in a sporty little number that made him wonder how many  _other_  hidden talents the man had.  _He'd_  certainly never been able to talk the transport overseer out of anything half as good.

The trip took just under forty minutes, the way Blair drove. They left the groundcar unattended - nobody would steal or damage it, here on the estate - and Blair took a large container out of the storage compartment at the back.

He caught James' incredulous stare. "It's just a few things. Food. Wine. Oil."

"Oil?"

"In case you want... a massage." Blair smiled innocently. "And towels. A rug to sit on. Pillows."

"You're joking." It was a large container, but large enough to hold all that? James shook his head incredulously.

"Come on. We're wasting time, Jim." Blair set off, the container clutched precariously to his chest until James caught up and persuaded him that they would make better progress if they each took a handle.

It was a long time since his last visit, but James vaguely remembered the series of springs scattered in a wide circle. The heat of the water varied considerably from almost unbearably hot to pleasantly cool - the latter being a large pool with room enough to swim in. Each pool had its own surrounding shrubbery for privacy, but today they seemed to have the whole place to themselves.

They started off in one of the warmer pools, just soaking and relaxing in the heat, then worked their way down to the coolest. This pool was roomy enough for James to work off some of his recovered energy by swimming a few fast laps, while Blair splashed contentedly in the shallows. It wasn't long before James abandoned his exercise and swam back to Blair's side.

"Happy now?" It was impossible to keep the sarcastic tone when Blair smiled at him with such blatant love in his eyes. James submitted himself to his fate and reached out to lift a long wet strand of hair away from Blair's cheek. "Thanks for bringing me here."

"You see? I told you you'd love it."

James didn't remember being told any such thing, but it was pointless to argue. He pulled his lazily floating lover into his arms and gently propelled them both to the edge of the pool. Lying half in and half out of the pool they kissed contentedly and basked in the warmth of the sun.

"I love  _you_." The words came with unexpected ease, an answer to the words he hadn't allowed Blair to speak the previous night. "But Blair, nobody can know about this. Not even Simon. They'll separate us if they find out."

For once Blair didn't argue the point, just nodded his understanding, his eyes wide and serious. "I love you, Jim." He smiled faintly. "I won't say it anywhere people could overhear us."

"Not anywhere. Not at the complex, not in my quarters, do you hear?" James laid a hand on his cheek. "We can't be sure there's no surveillance."

"But..." Blair hesitated, then sighed. "If you really think so."

James pulled him tightly against his chest. He took Blair's left wrist in a gentle grasp and rubbed his thumb gently over the tattoo, then kissed it lightly. "It won't be for long - a few years at most. I've almost got enough credits saved now, but I need something to live on, once I'm free. When I've got enough, I'll buy your freedom too."

"Jim..." Blair kissed James hungrily. "You can't do that, Jim. They won't let you."

"Why not? When I'm free I can do whatever I like." He gripped Blair's shoulders tightly, more shaken than he cared to admit by the flat tone of Blair's voice. "Don't you trust me, Blair?"

"It's not that." Blair laid his fingers over James' lips. "Jim, I'm not... not like you. I'm not like other slaves. They'll never let me be free. You remember when we talked about being sterilised and I said I hadn't been?"

Jim frowned at the apparent non sequitur. "Yeah. But what does that matter?"

"It matters. Jim, I was wrong. I tested myself - it was easy enough - and I  _am_  sterile just like all the other slaves. Jim how could I not remember  _that_?"

"I..." He reached for some kind of reassurance and found none. "You could have repressed..."

"No." Blair shook his head. "There's other things too. Memories that just aren't right. They feel like something that happened to somebody else. And there's... gaps. Little things that I should be able to remember, things that nobody else would think were important for me to remember, but the kind of things that nobody ever forgets. Like being sterilised, or the first time I had sex." He lifted frightened eyes to meet James' worried ones. "I think they've wiped my mind, and then put memories there to replace the ones they stole."

"Why would anybody do that?" James could hear the dullness in his voice. Master Anders had said Blair was fragile. Was this all some figment of an unstable mind or, even more disturbing, was Blair right? It was hard to decide which possibility was worse.

"Maybe I've done something terrible." Blair's voice was quiet and calm now, but James saw the fear in his eyes.

"No." He drew Blair's head down onto his shoulder and stroked the wet strands of hair gently. "Blair, you wouldn't hurt anyone. Whatever might have happened in the past, it's over now, and I won't let anything happen to you."

Blair's arms slid around his waist and he gradually relaxed against James' chest. But before long, the water began to feel chilly against James' skin, in spite of the warmth from the sun, and he pulled Blair out of the water with him. As they towelled themselves dry in silence, he decided that he had to break the sombre mood somehow.

"Are you hungry? What did you bring to eat?" He led the way to the container, safely stored under a tree. There was a rug spread for them to lie on and, much to his amusement earlier, inflatable pillows to lean against. He lay down on the rug, pulling Blair into his arms and reaching with his free hand for the food.

It seemed that neither of them was particularly hungry yet. They fed each other a few scraps of the cold meat and some fruit and then lay quietly kissing and touching, while James occasionally combed his fingers through the tangle of Blair's slowly drying hair.

Eventually, Blair relaxed in James' arms and his fingers drifted down to trace the tan line from hip to just above James' cock. He sighed drowsily. "Mmn... I like this."

"I know you do." He captured Blair's hand before it could get any more intimate and held it flat against his belly. "It's a real nuisance to maintain. Damned if I know why it's so necessary."

As he'd expected, Blair perked up. "I  _think_  it's just one of those things that catch on and become part of a tradition, you know? Probably because it looks so hot." He chuckled quietly. "But the tradition of competing nude... now that's really interesting, Jim..."

"Yeah? Tell me about it." As if he'd ever needed to prompt Blair to start one of his lectures.<br> <br>  
He could feel Blair's grin against his chest. "It all goes back to when the planet was first colonised. It was the first - in fact the  _only_  planet - that's ever been discovered that's so like Earth it didn't need to be terraformed at all. One of the crew on the survey ship made some comment about Mt Olympus being the home of the gods, and the name just stuck. When the colonists arrived they stayed with the theme and named all the cities after ancient Greek cities - well, except for Parthenon, which is the name of a building."

James fed his lover a couple of grapes to silence him for a few seconds. "And what's all that got to do with me exposing myself to the whole planet?"

"Oh! Well..." Blair spat out a few pips onto his hand and tossed them into the grass, "in ancient Greece they used to hold the Olympic Games every four years. They stopped at some point, and then were revived in the twentieth century, in a more modern form; but the early colonists decided to go with the ancient tradition, which included competing nude. Also, the Games only consist of the original competitions. No modern sports allowed."

"Interesting." James rolled Blair onto his back and looked down at him. It was a constant surprise to him that Blair could throw off a melancholy mood in no more than a few minutes, given a few nudges the right direction. Now he seemed calm and contented, though James thought he could see a lingering sadness in the mobile face. "What other gems of information have you got to share?"

Offered carte blanche, Blair had no hesitation in taking advantage of it. "Well, the ancient Greeks didn't practice circumcision, so..." his hand caressed the stirring shaft of James' cock, "that's why Athletes are the only slaves who aren't circumcised. Also, I suspect that it allows the citizens to experience vicariously an Athlete's sense of achievement when he wins. Besides which..."

"...it looks so hot." James laughed. "Funny, but I prefer my men cut. And hairy."

"And short?" Wide, innocent blue eyes stared up into his.

"Especially short." James kissed his short, hairy, circumcised lover until Blair squirmed beneath him. "Tell me more, Blair." He pressed his lips to the tender spot just below Blair's left ear.

A soft gurgle was the only response at first, then Blair took a deep breath. "Oh man, how do you expect me to... ohhh..."

"You want me to stop?"

"No!" Blair yelped as James nipped at the soft skin of his throat. "Okay... where were we? Oh, yeah... did you know that Olympus is the  _only_  planet that still practices slavery? It all goes back to the planet being so Earth-like, and it relates to the whole Greek thing, too."

James hesitated, but out here they were safe enough from prying ears, and it might help if Blair got it all out of his system. He nibbled gently on Blair's clavicle. "Go on."

"Do that again." Blair's fingers were tracing slow circles on James' lower back, inciting him to thrust lazily against the muscular thigh beneath him. "So... so anyway, the other planets could only be colonised a bit at a time, because the environments were more or less hostile to earth-originated life forms. They never needed much of a slave population, and since the children of slaves were automatically citizens, once they reached majority, slavery virtually vanished by the third generation of colonists."

But here on Olympus, because the whole planet was available for settlement, they created a  _huge_  population of slaves. Oh god..." Blair gasped as James' mouth closed around his nipple, but obedient to his lover's warning growl, he continued, shakily. "And Jim, I think I know why we're sterilised - it's because of the gene-sets. You know how they manipulate the genes in favour of certain physical and personality traits?"

James growled again before swiping his tongue across Blair's chest, just below his nipple. It was basic science that every child was taught in class. "Sure I do."

"Well, it's pretty complicated stuff, Jim. I don't understand it all, but even before Olympus was discovered, scientists already knew that the changes made to a gene-set could carry through multiple generations, affecting them in ways nobody expected. There were some weird psycho-social things going on for a while. So any changes to a gene-set had to be tested and retested in simulations, sometimes for years, before they could make a change. Olympus needed a large, varied population. Their scientists didn't have time to work that carefully."

James lifted his head to stare at Blair, but all he saw was intellectual curiosity. Blair had obviously forgotten his personal issues, at least for the present. "So they made sure we couldn't have children."

"Yeah." Blair gently drew his head down again. "I think the homosexuality was just an afterthought, convenient but not necessary. The ancient Greeks were pretty keen on that too, so I suppose they figured they might as well make use of it."

"Well, I'm not complaining." James swirled his tongue around Blair's navel and smiled at the low moan Blair made.

"Me either. Oh, man... Jim you feel so good." Blair wriggled, pushing his hips, and his cock, up against James' midriff. He was still only partly aroused, swollen but not hard and James took hold of the thick shaft, stroking it slowly. "Don't stop, please."

"I won't stop." James glanced up into Blair's distracted face, pleased with the results of this unconventional approach to sex. "Is there more?"

"Uh, yeah..." Blair swallowed heavily. "The idea was that sooner or later, the slaves would become integrated into the citizen population, but that just never happened. Maybe because of the whole genetic thing... I don't really know. The citizens pay lip service to the theory by allowing slaves to buy their freedom, but in reality, it's so difficult to do that, most slaves never have a chance."

"I'd noticed that." James' voice was dry. He shook himself mentally, knowing it would do him no good to dwell on such things, especially with his own chance at freedom so close. He drew Blair's cock up to lie against his belly and placed a gentle kiss at its base. Blair groaned and arched his back. "You can stop talking now, if you want."<br>

<br>  
" _Thank_  you!" Blair's fingers clutched at James' head, guiding him along the underside of his cock. "Oh, god, Jim..."

Reaching the tip, James carefully licked away the few drops of clear pre-ejaculate gathering in the slit. Even this only produced a sluggish stirring of Blair's cock, and he took it into his mouth, trying to encourage it to fullness, but with little success.

"Jim, it's all right." Blair tugged at his shoulders. He smiled at James across the length of his body and drew his knees up, parting his thighs in invitation. "I don't need to..."

"I don't know, kid. It's going to be pretty difficult for you to fuck me like this." He grinned at Blair's startled expression.

"You want me to..." Blair blinked slowly and a flush spread over his face and down onto his chest. "Oh..."

"Uh huh." James reached for the small vial of oil and spilled some of it into his palm. He began to massage it into the thickened shaft. "Think you can do that for me?"

"I... uh, I'll try..." Blair licked his bottom lip nervously and James leant forward to capture it gently between his teeth.

Under James' careful ministrations, Blair's cock began to stiffen at last. He straddled his lover's thighs and stretched out over the sturdy body, rubbing his own hardness against Blair's.

"Just think about being inside of me, Blair. Think how it'll feel, how hot and tight and..." The sudden bucking of Blair's hips nearly threw him off and James laughed. He reached between their bodies to circle the now hard cock with his fingers. "Yeah, that's it..."

"Now. Jim, now..." Blair surged up again, more controlled this time, but his eyes glittered feverishly. "Oh, please..."

"Hold on." He flipped them both over, so that Blair lay atop him, and drew his knees up. "Now."

Blair shuddered, and thrust against him urgently a couple of times, then took a deep, gasping breath. "Okay. I can do this."

"Slowly. Do it slowly... I want to make it last." James watched avidly as Blair took his cock in one hand to guide it into his ass. Just seeing Blair touch himself was always a turn on, but this... this was incredible... Blair's little frown of concentration, the swift rise and fall of his chest, the beads of sweat trickling down - one of them clinging to the erect tip of his right nipple - it was almost more than James could bear, and Blair hadn't even entered him yet.

When the first, hesitant pressure started, James moaned. Against every instinct to impale himself on the blunt-tipped shaft, he forced himself to remain still, and to bear down a little - just enough to ease the way for Blair. The rounded glans slipped past the ring of his sphincter with a gentle pop that sent sharp little needles of pleasure into his groin.

"Are you all right, Jim?"

His eyes were closed. James opened them with an effort, and saw Blair leaning over him, looking worried. "It's wonderful. Fantastic." He slurred the words, barely able to drag in the air he needed to speak. "More."

A strained smile curved Blair's lips. "You sure?"

The sensations were starting to ease, and he desperately wanted more. He wasn't going to get it, James, realised, unless he could reassure Blair. "It's just so damned good. You are. So damned good. Legs."

"Legs?" Now Blair was looking bewildered.

"Your shoulders. My legs." He tried to lift them, but it felt like Blair was going to slip out of him, and if that happened, he'd just die. "First, I want you in me. Deep. Deep in me."

Amusement had replaced uncertainty as Blair finally realised what was going on. His hips pushed gently forward and his cock slipped deeper into James' body. Then he caught hold of James' ankles and hauled them over his shoulders, leaning into them as he pushed deeper yet.

"God, yes..." James sighed with pleasure and reached up to tease the damp curls on Blair's chest. "Again."

Each thrust took him a little further until at last Blair hit James' prostate, sending wildfire sizzling through his veins. James howled, reached for Blair's face, but once he had it cupped between his hands, there was nothing he could do with it. Certainly not kiss Blair, which was what he wanted - his own legs were in the way.

"Jim. Jim!" Blair's voice dragged him out of a fugue where only sensation existed. "Jim, you have to trust me. Can you do that?"

"Uh..."

Blair grinned. "I'll take that as a yes. You still want me to take it slow?"

"Please." James barely manager to whisper the word.

The most beautiful smile Jim had ever seen curled Blair's lips. His small, strong hands gently caressed James' thighs, his belly, his ribs, as he slowly withdrew and even more slowly returned. It didn't seem possible that it could take so long. James found himself waiting in an agony of anticipation for each brush of Blair's cock against his prostate. Each time it came, he felt like his body would explode.

"Blair... please..." In desperation James reached for his cock, tugging at it with frantic fingers. Blair batted his hand aside easily.

"It's mine, lover. You don't get to touch it." The husky voice sent shivers through him, but Blair took pity on him and wrapped his hand around the shaft, pumping it every bit as fiercely as James had. "It's all right Jim. You can let go any time you want to. Just let go."

"Yes..." Even as he spoke, the first tremors ran through his body and James twisted, writhing against the cock that filled his body and all his senses. His hips bucked uncontrollably, forcing him further onto Blair's cock. As Blair's fingers deftly manipulated his foreskin, sliding it back and forth across the almost painfully sensitive cockhead, James felt something release deep inside him, rushing out to the surface in a series of shock waves that left him limp and exhausted. And still Blair was there, inside him, on top of him.

Blair was still hard. James registered that fact rather dazedly and forced his eyes open. His legs had slipped off Blair's shoulders and the smaller man lay half over him, supporting his upper body on his elbows. Long strands of hair brushed against James' chest as Blair slowly lifted his head and stared at him. "Jim?"

"That... that was incredible." James swallowed with an effort. "Are you...?"

"I wanted to watch you come." Blair smiled shakily. "I'll be okay."

"Then I'll get to watch you come." James smiled and drew him down for a long kiss.

Before the kiss had ended, Blair was moving again, thrusting into James with swift precision, intent now on sating his own needs. James reached down, cupping the flexing, muscular buttocks in both hands. He planted his feet firmly on the ground and drove himself onto Blair's cock with as much enthusiasm as if he had not climaxed only a moment ago.

Tremors were already running though Blair's flanks and arms and it was obvious he could not hold out much longer. Jim reached up to hold back the hair from his face with one hand, while the other cupped one flushed cheek. Blair's eyelids flickered, half closed, then lifted a little when James brushed his thumb over the pouting lower lip. He smiled faintly and bit gently on the tip, then moaned as a tremor rippled through him.

As James watched, Blair's eyes flew wide open. "Oh... oh, Jim..."

It was so quiet that James could easily have missed it, as Blair stilled, buried deep inside him. He stroked Blair's cheek gently as his lover convulsed again and gasped, felt the pulsing of his cock as Blair came with one last, long shudder and collapsed into his arms.

* * *

There were only a few days left now. James carefully followed the regime that Simon had set him, trusting in his friend to know his strengths and weaknesses better than he did himself. Between Simon's rigorous schedule and Blair's encouragement, James no longer had any doubt that he would finally achieve his ambition.

The only fears he held were for Blair's safety while he was gone - a fear that was put to rest when Simon informed him that Blair would be travelling with the team to Parthenon, the provincial capital where the competition was to take place.

Simon grinned at the relief in James' face. "You don't need him to win, Jimmy. But I won't deny you've done better since he started hanging around."

"It's not that." James hesitated briefly, but there was nobody in this world, apart from Blair, that he trusted as much as he did Simon. "I'm worried about..." he remembered just in time not to say Blair's name aloud, "about him. I'm glad I can keep an eye on him."

"Oh?" Simon raised a curious eyebrow.

"It's just... he's harmless, really, but he comes out with the strangest stuff sometimes." James laughed uneasily. "He doesn't mean anything by it - it's just these crazy ideas he gets - but if people took him seriously... well, he could get into trouble, that's all."

"What kind of trouble?" To James' dismay, Simon seemed entirely serious. "Jimmy, don't let him mess things up for you. Not when you're so close."

"He won't. It's not like that." James caught hold of Simon's arm. "Simon, he's smart, and he thinks about things a lot. Then he just wants to talk about it. I told him to be careful what he says, and he's promised, but..."

Simon ran a hand over his close cropped hair and stared at James dubiously for a moment. Then he nodded. "I'll keep an eye on him in Parthenon. You know he won't be able to stay in the Athletes' quarters with you."

James hadn't actually thought of that, but he nodded. "He can stay with you?"

"Now, I didn't stay that!" Simon looked startled, then sighed. "All right. He can stay with me. He'll have to sleep on the floor."

James grinned. "He'd  _better_  sleep on the floor."

* * *

"Now just remember to take it easy. There's nobody who can even come close to you and you only have to finish in the first three to get to the quarter final."

James grinned at the top of Blair's head as he knelt, massaging and flexing James' ankles. "Yes, Coach."

It earned him a quick smile when Blair glanced up. "Okay, so I'm nervous. You'll do great Jim."

"Of course I will." James brushed his fingers down Blair's cheek and tweaked a soft curl. "It's only the first heat."

He shrugged off the light cloak, which was all he wore, and stood. He'd already warmed up, but the start of the race had been delayed by some procedural hitch, all too common even at this level of competition; hence Blair's nervousness.

Simon was busily talking to one of the other pentathletes, a young man who promised to shine, given a bit of experience. Race officials clustered together, conferring over whatever it was that had caused the delay, and the competitors who weren't running this morning had already started the javelin event. James and the others in this and the following heats would complete their three throws in the afternoon. It was all unnervingly prosaic.

James began his stretching routine over again while Blair watched him anxiously. The signal came just as he was finishing and James straightened from his crouch and walked to the starting line, throwing a reassuring smile in Blair's direction. He really wasn't too concerned about this heat, though he didn't allow himself to feel complacent either.

And, as he'd expected, none of the other runners were even close to his speed. He set off at a fast lope for the first two laps, then slowed a little to keep himself about twenty metres ahead of the pack. That ought to give him plenty of warning if somebody tried to overtake him. On the last lap he eased back even more and still finished an acceptable distance ahead of his nearest rival. The quarter finals would not be so easy. He strolled back to an excited Blair, casually waving to the cheering crowd. It always felt good to get the competition under way.

* * *

Four days of competition and it all came down to this - one last race, a race he didn't need to win to be the overall winner, but which James knew he just  _had_  to win. There was nothing like finishing in style... he grinned at Blair and Simon, and took his place at the starters' blocks.

His focus narrowed until all he was aware of was the length of track before him and the sound of the timer counting down the seconds. Even the other runners registered only peripherally on his consciousness. He'd run against most of them before, and had watched the others closely in the quarter and semi-finals. There was nobody here who, on current performance, could seriously challenge him.

When the signal sounded, he sprang forward, his strategy as simple as they came - get to the front and stay there. Only three other runners kept pace with him, no doubt hoping that they'd get a chance if he faltered, but James was running on a mixture of adrenalin and complete confidence. They couldn't touch him and he knew it.

By the last lap only Oren of Delphi was still with him, a few metres behind where he had been since the beginning. James could hear, even over the pounding of his own heart, the strained breathing that told him Oren couldn't hold the pace much longer. The rest of the leading pack was a safe ten metres further back.

Buoyed on by the cheering of the crowd, James reached deep within his reserves and stepped up the pace just a fraction. It broke Oren. James heard his gasp and felt his presence fade back, then a roar from the crowd alerted him to yet another challenger. He risked a quick glance over his shoulder. It was a relative newcomer who had broken from the pack and was slowly gaining ground. Too slowly to overtake James, unless he faltered, but it would get him second place.

Two strides from the finish line, James was already easing back a little. He'd never run so well in his life, and possibly might never again. He slowed to a walk, breathing deeply as the spectators went wild and Blair and Simon came running towards him.

"Fantastic race, Jim! You were  _incredible_." Blair was bubbling with suppressed energy, while Simon glared at James and shook his head disbelievingly.

"Don't you  _ever_  run a race that way again, you hear?" But a wide grin split Simon's face. "The kid's right. Incredible."

* * *

The award ceremony was almost anti-climactic after that race. Dressed in his best tunic, James accepted the medal, itself worth a tidy sum, and the traditional laurel wreath with aplomb, hugged his fellow medal winners and sauntered off to receive the congratulations of his Master and his Master's friends, wishing that this was one tradition he could avoid.

The party would go on for the next twenty-four hours, in all likelihood, but James was too exhausted, now the adrenalin had worn off, to look forward to it with any pleasure. Nor was he anticipating any enjoyment from the inevitable attentions of Master Anders' friends. There was no question of avoiding such attentions and they had never bothered him in the past, but now that he had Blair... he glanced over to where Simon and Blair stood and gave them a quick wave and a smile.

He would find an excuse to leave early, James decided.

* * *

Of course, early was a relative term. It was near dawn the following morning when James made his way unsteadily to Simon's door. There was a long delay before the door opened and a bleary eyed Simon stood scowling in the doorway. He looked James up and down and turned away with a grunt. James followed him through the door.

"Jim!" Even Blair seemed unusually subdued. "Are you all right?"

James smiled weakly. "I am very drunk." He managed to get the words out without slurring by speaking with unnatural precision.

"Yeah, I can see you are." Blair moved forward to hug him. "You smell too."

James winced, knowing that Blair wasn't referring only to the strong odour of alcohol that hung about him. "I gotta clean up." He lurched towards the bathroom and Simon hurriedly caught hold of his arm. "Sorry."

"Kid, get him cleaned up and into bed." Simon handed him over to Blair. "If I've gotta be awake, I'm gonna get something to eat."

They watched as Simon left, shutting the door sharply behind him. "Come on big guy, let's go over here, shall we?"

He managed to stay on his feet long enough for Blair to peel off his tunic and remove the masses of jewellery he'd acquired overnight then shove him into the sonic cleaner. James winced as the sound waves struck his over-sensitised ears, but the clean feeling afterwards was worth the pain. Pausing only long enough to wash the stale taste out of his mouth, James allowed himself to be dragged to Simon's bed and tucked neatly into it.

As Blair straightened, James caught hold of his arm. "Don't go."

"You need to sleep it off, man." Blair patted his cheek, grinning.

"I know." James mustered a sleepy smile. "Stay with me."

Blair sighed then, as James knew he would, pulled off his tunic and slipped into the narrow bed. James wrapped his arm around Blair's shoulders with a deep sigh of satisfaction and rested his chin against the ticklish curls. Within moments he was asleep.

* * *

Blair was still with him when James woke, a comforting weight in his arms. His head ached, even more than his body, and James' mouth twisted in distaste. Everyone had wanted a piece of the latest celebrity - to touch, to fuck, or be fucked by him - and refusal was not really an option. Once, he'd even enjoyed the attention, but not any longer.

It was some consolation, though not much, that the party-goers had also lavished gifts on him. It was not permitted to pay a slave; it was, however, common practice to reward a special service with 'gifts', usually jewellery. Lately the habit had been to give credit chips, thinly disguised as pendants, rings, or bracelets. Last night James had been so loaded down with the gaudy stuff that he hadn't had a chance to find out how much it was all worth, but he'd be willing to bet it was enough to bring his freedom several years closer than he'd dared to hope.

"Blair?" He whispered his lover's name softly. He didn't know how long he'd slept, but he had a feeling it was still quite early.

His lover came awake with a tiny start and a soft groan. "Jim?"

"Yeah." He kissed the upturned face hesitantly, then again with more confidence as Blair showed no sign of objecting. "I'm sorry... about the way I turned up here. It's just..."

"It's all right, Jim. I understand." Blair's arms tightened around his waist. "It's not right that you have to..."

"Shh." James placed his fingertips against Blair's lips. "It's just the way things are. It won't be for much longer."

Blair's eyes smiled into his and James kissed his lover again, stroking his fingers over the thick, unruly masses of hair. He wanted to make love; to exorcise the memories of last night's unwanted embraces, but his body was not going to co-operate. The party, on top of the days of full on competition, had taken his last reserves of energy and what he really needed to do was sleep for another ten hours. Instead he lay holding and kissing Blair as a feeling of drowsy contentment crept over him.

The chime of the doorbell abruptly broke his mood, and James swore under his breath. "It's only Simon. He'll go away in a minute."

The chime sounded again. And again. Blair pushed James away reluctantly. "I'd better go."

"Damn." James rolled onto his back, watching as Blair pulled his tunic on, and then decided he might as well get out of bed too. He walked out of the sleeping alcove just as Blair opened the door on two large household slaves.

The larger of the two laid a hand on Blair's arm. "BLR-932? You're to come with us."

"Jim?" Blair turned towards James, his voice shaking. "Jim, please..."

"Wait a minute. What's going on?" James strode forward and put his hand protectively on Blair's shoulder. "Who sent you here?"

"BLR-932 is to come with us." This time the smaller slave spoke. "Master Anders' orders."

"This is some kind of a mistake. Wait here while I check." Since there was no chance of closing the door on the two of them, James gestured them inside. The door closed behind them with a quiet snick. The large slave still held Blair's arm in a firm grip "Let go of him. He's not going anywhere."

As soon as he was released Blair flung himself against James' chest. "Jim, don't let them take me. They're gonna mind wipe me, I know they are."

"It'll be all right. I'll sort this out, okay?" James kissed him quickly and put an arm around his trembling shoulders. "Minder, I want to speak with Master Anders."

"Request transmitted." The calm response was immediate. James released the tight grip Blair had on the front of his tunic and moved away from him slightly. He'd need to have all his wits about him when Master Anders came online. "Comlink is open."

"Sir? It's James. I have two men here wanting to remove BLR-932." James' eyes met Blair's, silently apologising. "Are they acting under your orders?"

"That's correct." Anders' voice was composed. "I'm sorry James. I thought you'd be in the Athletes' quarters."

"Sir, If he's done anything..."

"James, I can't discuss this with you now. Please allow these men to carry out their orders."

"Jim..." He didn't need Blair's terrified whisper to tell him that something was seriously wrong. James held up a hand for quiet.

His heart was pounding and James had to force himself not to acquiesce. He'd never dared to question his Master's actions before. "Sir, I need to speak to you about this."

It seemed like an eternity before Anders replied. "Very well. Come to my rooms immediately."

"Thank you, sir." James drew a deep breath. "And may I have your word that nothing will happen to him until we've talked?"

"Really, James..." Anders sighed. "Very well. If he will go quietly with my men to a holding area, nothing will happen until after our meeting."

Anders' words weren't at all reassuring, but it was the best James could hope for right now. As the comlink clicked off, James turned to Blair. "You heard. It shouldn't take very long."

The two men closed in on Blair and he turned frightened eyes to James. "Jim. Please..."

"It'll be all right. I won't let anything happen to you." James gripped both Blair's hands tightly for a moment. "Go with them. I'll be there soon. I promise."

Blair nodded dumbly as his shoulders slumped in defeat. He seemed smaller than ever between the two tall, heavily muscled men; hardly bigger than a child. James swallowed a sick sensation as his lover was ushered through the doorway, his dark head bowed.

* * *

Master Anders met him at the door, dressed in a thin robe and obviously recently woken from sleep. "James, come in." His expression and his voice were grave.

James was too worried even to apologise for disturbing his Master. "Sir, about Blai... BLR-932..."

"So he's given himself a name again." Anders smiled wryly.

"Yes, sir." James blinked at this unexpected turn of events. "He... uh, he says that all the slaves do that."

"I'm sure he believes that, but in fact he's wrong." Anders turned and led the way into the living area. "Sit down, please."

"Sir, he thinks you're going to mind wipe him. He's... he's terrified." James resisted the urge to pace and edged himself gingerly onto the expensive couch. "Please, whatever he's done, he never meant any harm. I can talk to him, make sure he..."

Anders raised his hand in a silencing gesture and James fell silent. "I'm sorry James. I know you're fond of the young man. Perhaps too fond of him. However I don't really have any choice in this." He sighed with what seemed like genuine regret. "We have given him every possible chance."

"Then at least let me tell him he'll be able to come back to me, after he's..." James faltered to a stop at the expression on Anders' face. The sick sensation in his stomach grew suddenly much worse. "What are you going to do to him?"

"There's no easy way to tell you this, James." Anders leaned forward a little. "I wouldn't even consider telling you at all, if not for the fact that once you become a citizen, it's something you'll learn about sooner or later. It's not an easy transition to make, from slave to citizen, but I think you'll manage it well." He hesitated, obviously searching for the words. "BLR-932 is to be put down. I can assure you it's quite painless and he won't know what's about to happen."

"Put... you're having him killed?" It was difficult to speak through the shock that rocked through his body. Not even the wildest of rumours among the slave community had ever mentioned this possibility. He gripped the edge of the couch as his stomach churned dangerously and his head swam.

"James, how old do you think I am?"

The unexpected question steadied him, distracting James from his reactions and forcing him to think. Anders looked no older than thirty, but he had looked like that through all the years James had known him. "I don't know sir."

Anders smiled slightly. "I'm ninety-five years old, and in all those years, I've only given this order two other times. It's not something I'd do lightly. I hope you believe that."

He didn't know how to answer, and remained silent, staring at the other man. Everything James knew about Anders told him that he was not a cruel man, but how could he sit here so calmly and talk of killing Blair? Tightness coiled in his chest, making it difficult to breathe.

"BLR-932 is... unstable, I suppose is the best word to describe him. When he reaches the medical centre, I have no doubt the doctors will agree. If not, they will reject the termination order."

His eyes watched James carefully, no doubt assessing his reactions. What would happen, James suddenly wondered, if Anders didn't like what he saw? Would he too be scheduled for 'termination'? "Why, sir? I don't understand what he's done. He's never caused any trouble."

"I'm afraid you don't know him as well as you think you do." Anders shrugged lightly. "I daresay you've realised he's been 'wiped before; I did warn you that he was fragile. Unfortunately, he's already showing signs of reverting to his previous disruptive patterns of behaviour."

"Can't you just... just try again. I'll look after him, make sure he doesn't..."

Anders was shaking his head slowly. "James, he's been 'wiped twice. A third treatment has never been successful. And, in fact, it was always a slim chance. His gene-set was an experimental one, which turned out to be unsuitable. BLR-932 is the only surviving member of a set of six. One of them suicided as a teenager, the others have all had to be terminated. We really have tried very hard to keep him alive, but I'm afraid that's no longer an option."

"I don't understand. Why is he unsuitable?" James spoke as calmly as he could, but still heard the tremor in his voice. Never in his life had he dared to question a Master's decision, or to argue for what he wanted. "Please, sir. I have to know why."

"James..." Anders sighed, then smiled warmly. "You really are impressive, you know. You'll make a fine citizen when the time comes. Do you know that your sterilisation can be reversed? You'll certainly be a welcome addition to the gene pool."

"Thank you sir." James forced himself to smile. He knew a bribe when he heard one. "But, about Blair?"

"All right. If you insist on knowing. I suppose it could be considered a useful introduction to some of the difficulties you'll face as a citizen." Anders leaned back in his chair and met James' eyes appraisingly. James was left with the impression that his own future hung in the balance just as much as Blair's did. "Citizens, as you know, are not permitted to engineer their gene-sets to any great degree. The slave population, on the other hand, is a very different proposition."

James nodded, forcing himself to appear as calm and reasonable as possible. "Yes, sir. I know that."

"We need... exceptional people if our world is to progress. However the citizen population is too small to produce sufficient numbers of scientists, inventors - thinkers, if you will - using normal methods of reproduction. And the slave population is, well, they're bred to be amenable to their situation. However intelligent a slave may be, he's not likely to produce great new ideas if he's been designed not to question commonly accepted principles."

Anders shrugged. "So the BLR-930 series was developed - high intelligence and the propensity for original thinking were the key elements. When BLR-935 suicided, we realised there were problems. James, the designers, the doctors and the supervisors were all involved in trying to recover from this, but in spite of all attempts to adjust their psychological profiles, all the siblings failed, one after the other. BLR-932 was our last hope. Now he has failed too."

"How has he failed?" It came out too sharply, and James smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry, sir. I just want to understand."

"Of course." Anders hesitated, frowning. "Unfortunately, BLR-932 has been unable to accept his place in this society. His intelligence has been directed, somewhat erratically, into areas he was never intended to show an interest in. He questions everything, is interested in everything. It leads him into conflict with his supervisors and other slaves. It seems that in addition to exhibiting an intense curiosity, he also has a strong desire to communicate his ideas to others."

James smiled weakly. "I've noticed that. He's a natural born teacher."

"Yes. I suppose you could describe him as that." Anders returned the smile. "But, James, the ideas that seem to most interest him are ideas that we cannot allow to be propagated. Our society depends upon a precarious balancing act. If BLR-932 were to spread his 'ideas', it could be disastrous."

"He wants to be free." No, more than that, James realised... "he  _needs_  to be free. But couldn't you just..."

"My dear James, that is your heart speaking, not your head. We cannot free a slave simply because he wants it." Anders stood, and looked down thoughtfully at James. "Besides, it wouldn't be enough. Even if he was free, BLR-932 would not be satisfied until all slaves were similarly emancipated. If his views were to spread our society could crumble under the pressure. You must understand the seriousness of this situation."

It was the crux of the issue, James realised, and one that was not negotiable. A part of him could understand that, even as his mind revolted against the idea of Blair dying in the greater interests of a society that viewed him as a disposable commodity.

One thing, however, was absolutely clear - it would do Blair no good to argue, and could end up costing James his life too. He bowed his head in submission and defeat. "I  _do_  understand, sir. But I owe him so much. I... I care about him, and right now he's afraid... terrified. Please, you have to let me help him."

"In what way, James?"

Anders' voice was simply curious and James risked an upward glance. "Let me take him to the centre. I'll tell him it's just a... a minor adjustment he's going in for. He'll believe me. Let me stay with him until it's over."

He was subjected to a long, assessing stare. Then Anders nodded his agreement. "All right, but with one condition. You'll give him a tranquilliser, and a guard will accompany you both. I can't risk an escape. Do you understand me?"

It was a thinly veiled warning. James nodded soberly. "Yes, sir. I understand."

* * *

The moment the door opened, Blair was on him, clutching at the front of his tunic with desperate fingers. "Jim! Oh god..."

"It's all right." James bent his head over Blair's, listening as his lover struggled to breathe normally. "I've talked to Master Anders. Everything is going to be all right."

"But..."

James led him over to the narrow cot, which was the only furniture in the small room. "Come sit down. Don't be afraid."

Blair sank down onto the edge of the bed, looking up at James with a mixture of hope and barely controlled terror that tore at James' heart. He sat beside Blair and tried to brush his hair into some semblance of normality. He failed dismally, and placed a soft kiss on the trembling lips instead.

"Jim, they're going to mind wipe me, aren't they?" Blair's eyes filled with tears. "I'll forget you. I don't really care about the rest of it, but that..."

"No. Hush." James pulled him into a gentle embrace. "Trust me, love. I'm going to be right there with you. I promise everything's going to be all right."

Blair didn't answer, but he shook his head tiredly, leaning in against James' chest. James could feel the wetness of tears seeping through the light cloth of his borrowed tunic. He slid his hand under the thick curls and rubbed the nape of Blair's neck in soothing little circles.

Eventually Blair settled limply into James' arms and sighed. "I love you Jim."

"I know." He tilted Blair's face up and wiped away a few stray tears from his lover's reddened eyes. "I love you too. I'm going to make sure you're all right. Do you trust me?"

Blair nodded silently, but his eyes held no hope at all. James forced himself to ignore the emptiness he saw in them. "I have to give you this. It's a tranquilliser, that's all, just something to calm you for the journey to the medical centre." He held up the hypospray so that Blair could see it.

"All right, Jim." Blair's voice was weary. "Whatever. I just want it over with."

He pressed the spray against Blair's throat and heard the hiss as the dose was administered. "Just relax. Don't fight it."

He cradled the smaller man in his arms, waiting for the drug to take effect. Gradually, Blair grew heavy and limp in his arms. "You still with me, love?"

"Yeah." Blair's voice was drowsy and he barely lifted his head.

"It's time to go." James half lifted Blair and set him on his feet, steadying him with an arm around his waist. He walked slowly to the door, allowing Blair time to adjust to being upright.

In the outer room the two guards who had come to collect Blair were waiting. The larger of them fell in behind James and Blair as they headed for the outside. Once they got to the parking area, the guard went ahead to a small groundcar.

James shook his head as the guard opened the passenger's door at the front. "I'll sit in back with him."

"Whatever." He waited until James had bundled Blair into the back seat and climbed in after him, then got into the driver's seat.

Blair slumped against him, eyes blinking owlishly. "Are you all right, Blair?"

"Huh?" Blair smiled vaguely and James wondered if he'd given the smaller man too strong a dose. "Oh, yeah. I'm just fine." He giggled weakly.

"Why don't you lie down for a bit?" James pulled Blair over until he was lying curled up with his head in James' lap.

"Oh wow. Is that a javelin, or are you just pleased to see me?" Blair's giggles were becoming less controlled by the minute. He glared at the guard, who'd turned to watch. "What you looking at, ugly?"

"Hush. Close your eyes." James put his hand lightly over Blair's mouth and had his palm licked teasingly. But at last Blair settled quietly. James smiled apologetically at the guard. "It's the tranquilliser. Don't mind him."

It was going to take them about twenty minutes to reach the medical facility, James knew from his own, bitter experience after snapping a tendon here a few years previously. Then the trip had seemed to take an eternity, now time was passing all too rapidly. They'd just turned into a quiet street when Blair groaned suddenly.

"You're not going to be sick are you?" James bent over Blair's head, his fingers tightening against Blair's ribs. His other hand was still resting lightly over Blair's lips.

Blair groaned again, his head turning away, his body jerking uncontrollably. James tightened his hold and glanced at the guard. "Stop the car. I might need help."

After one quick look, the groundcar shuddered to a halt and then tilted as the larger man tumbled out into the street. He opened the back door on Blair's side and leaned in for a better view. Blair was twisting and all but convulsing in James' arms, making choked, guttural sounds.

"Help me, will you?" James gasped out the words, fighting to maintain his hold on Blair's head and chest.

The guard leaned further into the groundcar and was promptly kicked in the gut by Blair's thrashing foot. There wasn't going to be a better opportunity; as the beefy guard folded over, James punched him as hard as he could manage. It wasn't one of his best - there wasn't enough space, and Blair was considerably in the way - but another kick from Blair, this time on the chin, sent the guard crashing backwards onto the street.

James released his grip on Blair, shaking his hand where the palm was smarting from a bite. "Don't get carried away, okay? Just settle down."

"Oh, man, you were  _tickling_  me!" Blair clumsily brushed at the tears of laughter on his cheeks.

"Well I've stopped now, just lie still. You're shot full of tranquilliser, remember?" James couldn't help grinning; he'd counted on Blair's ticklishness, but the results had been spectacular even though he'd only had roughly half the proper dose.

James got himself out of the groundcar without any help from his still squirming lover and went around to check on their guard. He was still out cold and, luckily, there were no bystanders to raise the alarm. It took a considerable effort to load the unconscious body into the groundcar and lay it on the floor. He tied the man's hands together with his own belt.

Blair was lying still, the hilarity gone from his eyes. "Jim, what have you done? This is crazy."

"I thought you trusted me?" James smiled, and kissed Blair's bare ankle.

"I do, but this..." Blair's return smile was forced. "Where are we going to go? They're going to hunt us down. You know they are."

"I've got that covered. You just relax for a while." James shut the door and climbed into the driver's seat.

Now to find out if he really  _had_  got that covered. There'd always been stories - the slave community was rife with rumours, stories, legends - about a group of citizens who helped runaway slaves. As far as James knew, they didn't exist. He'd never seen any reports of runaways on the newscasts, only heard of it as rumours, but it was the only chance they had, and he'd just have to risk it.

He drove the groundcar several kilometres off the route to the medical centre and dumped it. The guard was showing signs of waking, and James was surprised by the relief he felt that the man was basically unhurt. He got Blair out of the car, not without some difficulty, and started walking. There were plenty of public comlinks not too far away, and he had a list of half-remembered names to look up.

* * *

"What can I help you with?" The elderly slave's voice was far less welcoming than his words, and James wondered if he hadn't made a terrible mistake.

"I hear the Harriet Tubman Railway Association is looking for new members." James tried to smile convincingly while supported a decidedly wilting Blair with one arm. "We'd like to join."

One grey eyebrow rose intimidatingly. "I think you must be mistaken, Sir."

As James hesitated, Blair revived slightly. He directed a wavering stare at the old man. "Are you kidding? This is James of Elusis. The greatest... Athlete..." His head flopped forward again as his voice faded to an indistinct murmur.

"James of Elusis?" The old man frowned. "Ah, yes. Congratulations, sir. I saw the newscast."

"Thank you." James smiled perfunctorily. "Can you help us?"

"One wonders why an Athlete of your standing would wish to join the Railway Association."

It took a moment to realise the polite non-sequitur was a question. "My friend needs help. We both do." James was aware of other slaves lingering in the shady areas of the garden inside the fenced yard, and a young woman who was walking towards them at the leisurely pace that usually denoted a citizen.

"Dmitri, is there a problem?" The woman was tall and slim, with dark, glossy curls and blue eyes. "Who are these people?"

"Miz Megan, this is James of Elusis and... his friend." Dmitri turned with some relief to his mistress. "It seems as though they may be in some kind of trouble."

Megan smiled, but her blue eyes assessed James coldly. "I've seen you compete. Why do you want help from us?"

He didn't want to let Blair know what the stakes had been, but probably nothing less would convince this suspicious woman. "See if you can find the medical records for BLR-932. They'll tell you all you need to know."

"All right." Megan turned away. "Dmitri, please take these gentlemen to the atrium and provide whatever refreshments they want."

In less than twenty minutes she was back. She looked first at Blair, who was sleeping off the effects of the tranquilliser in a comfortable chair, then at James. "It's not going to be easy to find a place to send you both. Your face is far too well known." Megan signalled to a young slave. "Sam, take the gentlemen to the special guest room. James, please stay in the room at all times. Do you need anything else to eat?"

"No thanks." James indicated the tray of snacks. "We've had all we need."

She smiled. "I'll let you know when I've got more news."

He shook Blair's shoulder gently to wake him and helped him up out of the chair. Slowly, they followed Sam to the rooms that would be their home for the next few days.

* * *

James woke several hours later to find Blair wrapped around him like some creeping plant, his face buried against James' throat. It was a huge relief simply to lie there and allow the fear and horror of the day to seep away, comforted by the slow even breathing of his lover. Still, James was all too aware of how big a task lay ahead of them, and after too short a time, he gently extricated himself from Blair's limpet-like embrace.

"Jim?" Blair's head came up and his eyes searched blearily for James.

He dropped a kiss on the flushed cheek. "I'm here. Go back to sleep."

Blair was already pushing himself up into a sitting position. With the covers pooled around his bare hips, he was a severe temptation, but James simply kissed him again and went into the bathroom. He took his tunic with him into the sonic cleanser. It wasn't as effective as a proper laundry cleanser, but it would have to do for now, since he had no other clothes. He had almost nothing.

When he got back to the sleeping area, Blair was out of bed and investigating the room. "How're you feeling now?"

"I'm fine." Blair smiled distractedly. "Jim, what are we going to do?"

"The people here are going to help us. We'll do whatever they think is best, okay?" James pulled him into his arms for a long kiss. "And we've got  _some_  resources."

Blair picked up the small, but surprisingly heavy pouch James had left on the small night table. "This? Is that all the credit chips they gave you?" He looked up at James, his eyes brightening with laughter. "Is  _that_  what I felt in the car?"

"Yep. I went back to Simon's room to get it after I'd seen Master Anders." James grinned. "I had it pinned to the inside of my tunic. You nearly gave me heart failure."

Blair leaned against him, laughing helplessly and James gave in to his own hilarity. His laughter held a touch of hysteria, as did Blair's, but when they finally sobered, he was feeling a lot better and Blair looked like his normal cheerful self.

Just then the door chimed, and James went through to the living area to open it. Megan and Sam were outside, with a tray of food and a pile of brightly coloured cloth. James smiled and stepped back. "Come in."

"Well." Megan's bright gaze took in their general light-heartedness and smiled. "I see you're both recovered. We have a lot to do. Sam, can you put the food down there, please, and we'll get started."

They sat in chairs around the low table and nibbled on more of the delicious snack foods while Sam laid out the rather strange looking clothing Megan had brought. She waited until Sam had left and then leaned forward.

"I'm sure you've realised that you can't stay on Olympus. James, your face is far too well known. We could surgically alter your appearance, perhaps, but then there's another problem. Blair, your medical records are very extensive. There's too much of a risk - if you needed treatment of any kind your DNA readings would almost certainly trigger alarms in the system." Megan sighed. "We've never had to deal with such a high profile pair before."

James had expected that. He just nodded, placing one hand reassuringly on Blair's arm. "I know almost nothing about what's out there. But I take it you have a suggestion?"

"Yes. I think this would be a perfect solution." Megan smiled, "in fact it's something that we've talked about for a while, should the need arise to send someone off-planet. It's a place called Philadelphia. I think you'll find it interesting."

"Philadelphia?" Blair looked at her in surprise. "Doesn't that mean..."

"Brotherly love. Yes." Her smiled broadened into a grin. "It was originally settled by a religious cult which was radically anti-female. I believe they taught that women were the work of Satan. Of course that was centuries ago. The religious aspect has been lost, but at least half of the population are homosexual males. They have no official trade ties to Olympus, and if you were a handfasted couple, there's no way they'd send you back to a planet where you'd be separated. They take marriage very seriously."

James looked at Blair questioningly and received a nod in reply. "It sounds perfect. What needs to be done?"

Megan shrugged. "Documentation. The clothing over there is what they wear on Philadelphia. You'll need to get used to wearing it. They speak Standard, just as we do, so no problem there. We'll need to change your appearance a little, just as a safety precaution, and remove Blair's tattoo. And, of course, you'll need passage on a ship."

"Is that all?" James was amused by her calmness. It seemed like a huge task, and he was suddenly very glad that it wasn't all up to him.

"Well, we  _have_  done this before. Just not on an interplanetary scale." She seemed completely unfazed by the prospect. "There's a ship due in tomorrow that's going on to Nouvelle Quebec. It will leave in just over a week and we're trying to get you passage on it. Philadelphia has an embassy on Nouvelle Quebec, and I think I can get some contacts there. Ideally, we hope to get you refugee status. I'm afraid this is going to be a costly exercise and none of us are rich. I'm not sure how much we'll be able to give you to help you set up on Philadelphia."

"We've got some credit chips." Blair cut in eagerly. "I'm not sure how much, but..."

"Enough." James smiled at him before turning back to Megan. "We won't need any help in that area. Just get us safely off planet and we'll be in your debt."

* * *

The garden was redolent with the scent of herbs and flowers, and James paused to ensure there was nobody enjoying a late evening stroll in the moonlight. In fact it was closer to early morning than to midnight, otherwise he would not have risked disobeying Megan's orders.

He'd slept, off and on, all afternoon and now was wide-awake and far too keyed up to lie peacefully next to his sleeping lover. Blair had faded fast after Megan's visit to their room, obviously still feeling the effects of the drug James had given him. It was actually a relief to James that Blair was so out of sorts - he hadn't really had time to deal with the events of the day and wasn't ready to talk about it just yet.

"I thought we'd agreed you would stay in your rooms." Megan's voice was low-pitched and quietly annoyed.

James turned to see her standing under a tall tree, almost invisible until she moved. "I'm sorry. I thought it would be safe at this time."

"It usually would." She walked over to him and he saw her smile, a flash of pale teeth in the darkness. "I couldn't sleep either. James..."

When she didn't continue, he prompted her. "Yes?"

"You realise that if you're caught, both your lives will be forfeit." She looked at him curiously. "You're famous. You could have been free in a few more years. Yet you gave it all up to save Blair."

He answered the question in her voice, still a little surprised himself by the ease of his decision. "I couldn't let him die. He doesn't know yet, and I don't want him to, at least until after we're safe."

"I gathered that." Megan sighed and put her hand on James' arm. "He's a lucky man, to have you."

There was something in her voice that warned James she was not thinking only of him and Blair, but he hesitated to question her. "We're both lucky, then."

"Yes." The bitter undertone was recognisable, now. She turned her face away from him. "I'm sorry. The two of you remind me..."

"Who was he?" It wasn't a huge intuitive leap to guess at a lost love, but Megan's hand tightened where it still rested on his arm.

"A slave. I was young and foolish, he was... he gave me a sense of security my family could not. Jani..." She shook her head, setting the loose curls bouncing, "it's so long since I said his name. I wanted to set him free, to buy him rejuv, but my family wouldn't allow it. We were lovers for twenty years and I had to watch him grow old and die while I remained as I am now. I wish I'd had more courage, defied my family. If I had..."

There was a world of sadness in her voice and James shifted uneasily. "Is that why you got involved in the Association?"

"That came later. I bought a slave, nobody special, just a household servant." Megan pressed her lips together for a moment. "What I didn't realise was that he had a lover, back at the estate where he'd come from. The lover was sold elsewhere. David killed himself after finding out that his lover had suicided. If I'd known, I would have bought both of them, but their owner never thought it was important enough to mention, and David had never dared to tell me.

"After that I started talking to my slaves. Really talking. It was a novel concept to all of us." She laughed bitterly. "I soon found out that most of them knew of some similar circumstance - lovers parted, or siblings separated for no other reason than it was no longer fashionable to have a 'matched set'. It just seemed so wrong, James. I spoke out a few times, and got laughed at or ignored, but I started freeing my slaves, and giving them access to rejuv. Then I was approached by a member of the Association. It wasn't a difficult decision to make."

James closed his eyes for a moment, thinking just how close he and Blair had come to that same situation. Would he have been able to go on living if Blair had died? It was a startling thought, given that he'd only known Blair a few weeks and a part of him didn't want to know the answer; another part of him was afraid the answer was that he could not.

"Of course you realise that it would be much safer to send you two off-world if you travelled separately."

Megan's voice was merely curious, not seriously suggesting it as a possibility, and James' instinctive reaction, a sharp shake of his head surprised neither of them. "No. I have to be sure he's safe."

"I understand." She grinned suddenly. "That's why I didn't bother to suggest it."

"You know, I had no idea... I suppose I keep pretty much to myself, don't have many friends, but... I'd heard of Masters who abused their slaves and I was just thankful that Anders wasn't one of them. I never heard of anything like this. Even now I don't hate him." James looked at her almost beseechingly, hoping she'd understand that too. "I can't. He didn't  _want_  to kill Blair. I suppose he thought it was a necessary evil."

She nodded thoughtfully. "I know him, slightly. He's a good man. He has a reputation for being overly indulgent with his slaves. It's not so surprising you weren't aware of how bad life can be for a slave on this world. Not many people are; but once you realise, it's not hard to see."

* * *

The days passed slowly. James, particularly, fretted at being so enclosed. Their rooms were large enough - a suite comprising separate sleeping, living and ablution areas, but they could not risk going out. Most of the household had no idea who they were, and it was safer to keep it that way. Megan visited them infrequently to keep them informed of her progress, and Sam brought them food and anything else they requested.

Blair spent most of his time on the comlink checking out information on Philadelphia, Nouvelle Quebec and their hostess. "You know, Jim, she's hidden it well, but none of the people here are slaves. Megan's freed all of them, and pays them to work here."

"Is that so?" James paused in his exercises, the only thing that kept his mind off their unavoidable incarceration. He'd never told Blair about his conversation with Megan that first night, thinking it too personal to mention without Megan's consent. "It must cost her a bundle."

"I'd say so." Blair turned back to the screen and tapped at the keyboard again as James came to look over his shoulder.

It still felt strange to be wearing the Philadelphian clothes - pants, long tunic-like shirt and a loose vest over the top - and even stranger to wear soft boots instead of sandals or bare feet, but James was slowly adjusting. He stared down at Blair's chest, partly visible in the open V of his shirt, and slid his hand under the cloth to pluck at a brown nipple. There were definitely compensations.

"Jim!" Blair's protest was distinctly half-hearted. He turned in his chair to face his lover and his hands got busy under the tail of James' shirt, fumbling with the unfamiliar fastenings of James' pants.

James pulled him up into his arms and kissed him hungrily. The only distractions he had from boredom were sex and whatever exercises he could do without any equipment, and he was not getting nearly enough of either.

After a moment Blair pulled back a little and looked at him. "You know, I think I like those hair extensions. Maybe you should grow your hair once we're on Philadelphia." He reached up to tweak the narrow fringe of long strands that were constantly falling into James' eyes.

"I don't think so." James brushed them back behind his ear, only to have them slip free immediately. He sighed. He didn't much like the way Blair had tied back his own much longer than usual curls, but had to admit he looked quite different without all that hair surrounding his face. At least his own hair extensions barely brushed the collar of his shirt at the back. Anything longer would have driven him crazy. "You're the hair boy in this relationship."

Blair grinned and things would have probably started getting hot and heavy before much longer if they hadn't been interrupted by the door chime.

"It's time, gentlemen. Jim, you'll need the tinted lenses now. Do you have your luggage?" Megan breezed in, all cool competency. She handed a small folder to Blair while James went into the bathroom to put in his lenses. "Your papers are in here, and some contact information you might need. Once you get to the embassy on Nouvelle Quebec, the ambassador will take good care of you. He knows the situation, so you only have to give the receptionist your names and you'll be fine. Just be careful until you're inside the embassy."

"Thanks, Megan." James returned, lenses in place. "We wouldn't have made it without your help. If there's anything we can ever do..."

"You could tell people about our situation here. I think most people would be horrified to hear what is going on. They know about the slavery, but not the way some slaves are treated." She exchanged a meaningful glance with James. Blair still didn't know what had been intended for him, and wouldn't until they were completely safe. "Philadelphians, especially, since most slaves are homosexual, might be willing to put pressure on the planetary government. Maybe you can help change things here."

"We'll do everything we can." Blair stepped forward and hugged the tall woman. "You'll be careful, won't you?"

"Of course. I'm only sorry I can't risk going with you to the transfer station." Her eyes were suspiciously bright.

Feeling a little awkward, James stepped forward and hugged her too. "We'll be fine. Don't worry about us."

She nodded. "There's a hired car waiting outside. Sam will drive you. Good luck."

Outside, Sam met them with a broad grin. "Ready?"

They climbed into the back of the groundcar and James settled back, his arm draped casually around Blair's shoulders. He deliberately dropped his voice into the soft burr that seemed to be the common accent on Philadelphia. Blair had insisted they both practice it. "We're ready."

* * *

The transfer station was huge. James couldn't remember being so bewildered by his surroundings since the early days of his competitive career, when the arenas and athletic complexes had seemed like enormous mazes. Blair, on the other hand, took the situation in his stride, insisting on examining several of the more exotic shops in the concourse and chatting inanely as they strolled through the more crowded areas. He was the picture of air-headed, honeymooning bliss - the cover that Megan and her anonymous accomplices had designed for them.

As they lingered in front of one brightly-lit storefront, James caught sight of the two of them in a mirror and stared. They seemed like strangers, these two men, with their garish clothes and their outlandish hairstyles. His own hair had been lightened to a frankly unnatural shade of blond and the annoying fringe flopped relentlessly over his left eye, partially obscuring his vision. His fingers twitched with the effort of not shoving it back out of the way.

Blair, on the other hand, looked incredibly exotic. His skin had been darkened to a rich mahogany that contrasted dramatically with his blue eyes, and his now waist-length hair, wrapped turban style around his head, gave him a little extra height, as did the build ups in his boots. A decidedly rakish goatee, and the judicious use of cosmetics, hastily applied in the groundcar on the way to the shuttle port, seemed to change the entire shape of his face. James brushed cautious fingertips over his own jaw hugging addition, and decided he'd be very happy to remove it as soon as they were aboard the Blue Falcon.

A capacious and filled to overflowing bag slung across James' shoulder did a little to hide his athletic frame, as did his slouch, when he remembered. Inside the bag were their passports and travel documents, in the names of Joseph Ellison and Jacob Sandburg, newlywed citizens of Philadelphia. Taking a deep breath, James willed away the tension in his shoulders. They'd made it this far - for the first time in his life he was in space - they would make it the rest of the way.

The shuttle had brought them here so smoothly it was difficult for James to believe they'd actually left the surface of the planet - until they passed a huge plasteel port with a view of a blue and green planet half obscured by swirling clouds. Blair simply stood and stared, open-mouthed, for a moment then turned away, slipped his arm through James', leaning into him and staring up adoringly. "Honey, do you think we could hire a room for an hour?"

His voice was loud enough to be heard by at least a dozen people and James flinched, blushing furiously. "Sweetheart..." Then he noticed that most of those within earshot were carefully not looking in their direction, some smiling indulgently, some obviously disapproving. Fighting back a grin, he raised his voice to the same level. "I don't think we could get a decent sized bed, baby. I hope the cabins on board our ship are better than the ones we had coming over."

Blair shuddered dramatically, his eyes dancing. "Oh, that was just  _too awful_... and they had no  _appliances_! What kind of honeymoon suite was  _that_?"

It was almost more that James' self-control could take. Desperately he grabbed Blair and kissed him into silence, releasing him only long enough to murmur a quick warning. "Don't get too carried away,  _sweetheart_."

His blue eyes suddenly morphing into limpid pools of innocence, Blair trailed after him. The plan called for them to wait until the last minute to board their ship. That way there was less chance of the immigration officers doing a thorough check of their travel documents, less chance that, while they waited in the departure area, some alarm might be generated by a random system check. Their documents were as perfect as money could arrange for them to be, but nothing was foolproof.

For an hour they wandered the station, casually necking and petting each other whenever it seemed someone might be too curious about a pair of oddly dressed men with unfamiliar accents. James could feel his nerves growing tauter by the minute, but still, when the time came, he had to force himself to turn in the direction of the immigration checkpoint.

There were eight people ahead of them - three lone travellers, and two couples, one with a sulky looking teenaged boy. James listened with one ear to Blair's inane chatter and with the other to the routine questions posed to each passenger. When, at last, it was their turn James stepped forward, trying to control his rapidly beating heart.

It helped that Blair, talking to a dour immigration officer, was driving the poor man half crazy with his random observations on the style of his uniform, the beauty of the planet, and those  _gorgeous_  Athletes - quite  _breathtaking_ , really, and considering how good looking  _all_  the men of Olympus were... James intercepted a coy look from under Blair's lashes at the much taller officer and growled warningly.

"Oh, Joey, don't you be such a spoilsport." Blair pouted adorably.

Ignoring his own interrogator, Jim scowled. "Then stop flirting, will you? I swear..." he turned back in time to see the man beside him hurriedly wipe a grin off his face. His scowl deepened. "Are we finished here yet?"

"Almost, sir." He tapped some information into the comlink and waited. Then, without warning the bored expression disappeared off his face and he straightened almost imperceptibly. "I'm sorry, sir, I'll have to ask you both to accompany me."

There was no hope of escaping here. Too many people still queued behind them, even though they'd waited as long as they'd dared. James saw another three men in the same blue and black uniforms striding purposefully toward them. Blair was herded against his side, still in character and protesting querulously. James wrapped a protective arm around his lover and gathered together what semblance of calm he could manage. "What's going on? I want to speak to your superiors."

The leader of their new guard smiled grimly. "Oh, you will, make no mistake. Come this way."

In silence they allowed themselves to be directed towards a narrow, deserted corridor and James wondered whether they were to be put straight onto a shuttle and returned to Olympus. Instead they were invited to enter a small waiting room, uncomfortably reminiscent of the one James had found Blair in when he'd been taken away.

At least when the door shut, they were alone. James gathered Blair into his arms and held him close, strangely comforted by the pounding of his lover's heart. "It's going to be all right. I won't let them..." his voice trailed off as it sank in that there was little he could do.

"Jim, maybe if we co-operate..." Blair bit his lip. "I mean, if I've already had one mind wipe, maybe it's not so bad. And they won't hurt you. You're too important."

"Shh." James brushed his lips against Blair's. He wasn't entirely sure they weren't under surveillance, and pitched his voice accordingly low. "It's not that simple, love. If we can get hold of a weapon, maybe there's a chance."

Blair's eyes widened. "No! Oh god, Jim, I should have let them..."

"Don't." James pressed his fingers against trembling lips. The time was long past when keeping Blair ignorant of the danger was going to be of any use and it was time to tell him the truth. "They weren't going to 'wipe you. They were going to kill you. If we go back, they'll kill me too. They wouldn't dare trust me not to tell anyone, mind wipe or not."

If he'd expected panic at this revelation, he'd seriously underestimated his lover. Blair stilled under his touch and stared up at James with a sober, worried expression. "What should we do?"

With no papers, it was going to be almost impossible to get onto their ship. It might just be possible to find a small freighter that would take them. James had cautiously stowed a few high value credit chips in the inner pockets of his vest; the rest of them were in the luggage, which was probably already aboard the ship. But first they had to get out of this room and away from the guards no doubt waiting outside.

"We need a weapon, preferably two. When they take us out of here, be ready for my signal." James tried to hide the fact that he hardly knew what he was doing, speaking with a confidence he didn't feel. "We have to stay together."

They were still close together, their cheeks touching, their voices only faint murmurs. "Wouldn't it be better to separate?"

"No. I have to know that you'll be safe." James drew back a little and took the beloved face between his hands. "If we can't get away..." he swallowed painfully, "I won't let them take us back to Olympus. I'd rather kill you myself than let them put you down like some worn out animal."

Blair's eyes widened, but he nodded his agreement and understanding. "This is all my fault. You were so close, man. You could have been free in just a few years."

"No." James shook his head slowly. "Until I met you I was only half alive. It would have just been another kind of slavery." He lowered his head to kiss Blair, sliding his tongue deep into the warmth that was Blair. It might very well be their last kiss, and he held it to the point where his head began to spin from lack of oxygen.

When they finally separated, James realised they were no longer alone. He hadn't even heard the other men enter. One was obviously the superior James had demanded, his lack of uniform and air of authority proclaimed it in no uncertain terms. The other two were guards, pure and simple. Their expressions gave nothing away.

"What is going on here? My husband and I simply wish to return to our home planet." James spoke with a bravado he was far from feeling. "Why are we being held here? I demand to speak to my planet's representative."

"I'm afraid your planet doesn't  _have_  a representative here." The leader's voice was unruffled by James's belligerent attitude. "But, if you'd care to accompany me back to Parthenon..."

"We'll miss our ship." Blair was back in character, petulant and brash. "This is  _ridiculous_."

"Nevertheless." He gestured for the two of them to precede him out the door. "Once this unfortunate situation is satisfactorily cleared up, of course your passage will be arranged on another ship." The tone of his voice indicated how unlikely that outcome was.

It wasn't long before they turned into a corridor that was even narrower and less well used than the previous one. He had no idea where exactly they were headed, but their situation seemed to be getting bleaker by the minute. The only hope he had left was that he would somehow be able to carry out his last promise to Blair, but with one guard ahead of them, and the other two men behind, it was going to be difficult, to say the least.

He'd almost reached the point of desperation where any action seemed better than none when a scuffling sound came from behind him. James got Blair out of the way with a quick shove and leapt at the guard ahead of him just as the other man turned to investigate. All those years of wrestling paid off. He got a head hold on the larger man without any trouble and wrenched the gun out of his hand. He didn't bother to check whether it was set to stun or kill, just released the guard long enough to squeeze the trigger and then catch him again as he sagged.

Blair was pressed up against the wall, his head turned towards the other two men, his hands spread wide. One, the guard, was on the floor, the other held the stubby weapon pointed directly at Blair.

"Put it down, or I'll break your man's neck." James growled the words, all too willing to carry out his threat.

Surprisingly the other man smiled. "He's unconscious? Good." He held the gun out to Blair, muzzle pointing towards the ceiling. "I believe we share a mutual interest in trains."

"Oh man, I don't believe it." Blair's vice was rough and shaking. "You're... uh..."

"A friend of Harriet's? Yes." He nodded towards the man James still held. "Put him down. I'm afraid we don't have a lot of time. Come this way."

They followed their erstwhile captor through a maze of corridors until James was completely disoriented. It didn't seem to faze the other man, who kept up a running explanation as they went. "...so it came as quite a surprise when I got the alert to be on duty today. I don't think we've ever sent anyone off planet before."

"This was all  _planned_?" Blair's voice rose in an indignant squeak. "You could have warned us, man!"

"No, no. I didn't know you were to be here, just that something was happening." They hesitated at a corner while a couple of maintenance staff went past. "Of course, when your security scan set off alarms, I knew why I'd been alerted." He smiled apologetically. "We tend to operate in very small cells. It's safer that way. I really know very little of what happens in the rest of the Association."

They turned into the corridor, then almost immediately turned left again. James wondered if they'd ever get where they were going. It had taken them at least five minutes to get this far. "What happens now?"

"We're nearly there." Finally they stopped, only a few metres from yet another junction and the other man handed over a small bundle of documents - their passports and travel papers. "Just turn left up ahead and you'll see the entrance to your ship. We're well beyond Immigration Control now. You'll have to stun me, unfortunately."

James would have just taken the instruction at face value, but Blair shook his head. "But the others... they won't suspect anything?"

"Why should they? I'm a respected senior official of the Planetary Services Corp. Charles didn't know what hit him, and I doubt that Arturo did either, thanks to you, James." He shrugged. "And since I have no desire to leave Olympus, I'll take my chances. After all, you're listed as dangerous and violent fugitives. Nobody will be surprised that you forced me to guide you here. Just put the weapons in the disposal chute around the corner. You won't be able to take them on board."

"Thank you." James clasped his outstretched hand briefly. "We owe you our lives." A quick nod from the other man was all he needed. He pulled the trigger and then helped Blair lower their rescuer to the floor.

Two minutes later, breathless and dishevelled, they were being welcomed aboard the Blue Falcon by harried looking staff. The steward hustled them into their cabin where, to James' vast relief, what little luggage they had was already stowed.

Blair grinned, his hair falling around his shoulders in untidy clumps. "God knows what they thought we were doing to look like this."

"I don't care." James pulled him into a furious embrace, during which he managed to pull the rest of Blair's hair into loose tangles and simultaneously kiss him breathless. Drawing back, he caught a glimpse of their documents where he'd tossed them on the bed and smiled, echoing the steward's greeting: "Welcome aboard Mr Sandburg."

"Welcome aboard yourself, Mr Ellison." One of Blair's lightning fast thoughts flickered across his face. "Hey, we're going to need familial names when we get to Philadelphia. We should just keep these ones. What do you think?"

"James Joseph Ellison and Blair Jacob Sandburg." James thought it over for all of two seconds. "I like that."

* * *

Epilogue

Nothing could have prepared James for his first view of Philadelphia. In spite of intensive terraforming, it still seemed extremely barren compared to the lushness of Olympus. He'd watched as the planet loomed larger in the shuttle's plexiglass ports and wondered what their future would be like on this world. Beside him, Blair was practically vibrating with excitement.

The shuttle touched down on a large airfield surrounded by greyish brown fields. What the plants were that grew there he had no idea, but the difference between the lush plant life on Olympus and these struggling shrubs could not have been greater. James looked out the huge plexiglass windows with a sinking heart. They'd stayed at the Philadelphian embassy on Nouvelle Quebec for nearly a week awaiting the paperwork that would allow them refugee status and James had enjoyed the cosmopolitan atmosphere there. Philadelphia seemed, at first glance, to have all the lack of sophistication of Olympus, but with none of the compensating beauty.

"Hey Jim. The guy at the ticket counter said there's a shuttle into the city leaving in ten minutes." Blair bustled up, looking eager as ever and James smiled, until his attention was snared by what looked like, but couldn't be, a familiar figure approaching through the sparsely populated space port. "Jim isn't that..."

"It can't be." James tore his gaze away from the tall, dark man and smiled down at his lover. If Blair was with him, then Philadelphia would be okay. He pulled his lover into a long kiss, only pulling back when a strange smell and the presence of a large body distracted him.

"About time you two got here." It  _was_  Simon, standing beside them with a long dark cylinder clenched between his teeth, which seemed to be responsible for the disgusting smell.

"Simon! Oh, man it's good to see you." Typically, it was Blair who recovered first. He detached himself from James and practically flung himself on Simon's chest. "How did you get here?"

"Yes, Simon." James grabbed his arm, grinning like a fool. "What are you doing here?"

Simon's rich chuckle rolled over them in comforting waves. "I got the note you left Jimmy. First thing I did was run back to the estate to pick up this." He pulled a small chit out of his pocket and held it out. "The real stuff's in a bank vault."

With Blair looking over his shoulder, James opened the folded document. It was a credit note for roughly ten times the amount of local currency they had brought with them. It represented most of the savings James had acquired over a lifetime of competition.

"You went back for  _this_?" Suddenly James was furious. "Are you crazy? Do you know what could have happened to you?"

The big man shrugged. "Everybody had other things on their minds, with you two on the run. I didn't do it just for you, though; I had my own stash too. Not as big as yours, but it'll make life a bit easier in exile." He grinned broadly and drew deeply on the smouldering cylinder, releasing a cloud of noxious smoke. "I sent out a couple of messages to some people I know, and got told to come here."

"But how..." James felt suddenly tired. Simon made it all sound very mundane, almost boring. It was impossible to maintain his fear-induced anger.

"The travel documents came along with the message." Simon withdrew the cylinder from his mouth and waved it absently in the air. "I got work on a freighter that was coming straight here, and arrived three weeks ago. Guess you'll be needing a place to stay, won't you?"

Blair was all but bouncing with excitement beside him. James exchanged an amused look with Simon, wondering how long his friend had been preparing for such an eventuality. But then Simon had always been wiser to the ways of the world than James. He looked the big man up and down. Philadelphian clothes suited Simon's solid frame and dark skin and he wore them easily; he might have lived here all his life.

"I suppose you've got jobs lined up for us too?" James pulled Blair alongside, draping his arms around his lover's shoulders as they started towards the exit.

"Not yet, but with your talent, Blair's teaching ability and my coaching skills, it'll be a breeze." Simon puffed on the cylinder, to James' intense discomfort. "But you'll have to find your own accommodation before too long. My apartment isn't going to be big enough for the three of us for very long. Besides, I met this guy..."

 


End file.
